


Late Bloomers

by WrathOfTheForest



Category: Postknight (Video Game)
Genre: Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22878823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrathOfTheForest/pseuds/WrathOfTheForest
Summary: Dahlia and Camellia try their best to run their respective businesses while getting under each other's skin more often than not.
Relationships: Dahlia (Postknight)/Camellia (Postknight)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Dahlia and Camellia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dahlia searches for the local blacksmith to fix the inn she runs. Meanwhile, Camellia looks for opportunities to expand her trades.

Dahlia stepped out of the inn and slowly closed the cellar doors. The hinges squeaked loudly as she did, making her cringe.

Rosavern was never the sturdiest inn. By the time her father had entrusted it to her, most of the support beams keeping the run-down building together had either been eaten by termites, or were dangerously close to collapsing. She had to repair most of the supports herself, but it wasn’t a sustainable job for one person alone. Soon enough, she knew she needed to hire someone else who actually did this for a living.

Dahlia heard rumors that the local blacksmith Belladona had recently finished her orders, and would be accepting more starting tomorrow. A large line of people stood beside Belladona's stall when Dahlia went there the next day, and it took until noon for her to reach it. Luckily, knowing Dahlia’s situation, and being a regular of Rosavern, Belladona immediately agreed to fix the building for her by next week. Dahlia hoped it would survive until then.

As if on cue, the door frame collapsed on the cellar doors just as she went out. Dahlia jumped out of the way, narrowly escaping the falling debris. The red ribbon and flower tying her ponytail came undone and fell, letting her typically well-kept orange hair run down. Her white dress and rose-colored frilly skirt were also smeared with dust and dirt as she lay on the ground.

After a few moments, she came to and stood up. She was still disoriented from the fall when she heard the frame seemingly collapse even further behind her, the crash jolting her awake. She hesitantly turned to her back, the dissipating cloud of dust blocking her view. The cloud spread towards her, making her cough. She tried to wave the dust away in front of her, but she only coughed harder.

The dust settled, and all that was left was a giant gaping hole at the entrance, in full view of the people near the wreckage. Dahlia looked at the concerned and confused looks they were giving her, and could only let out a defeated sigh.

“Alright, fine,” she said to herself. “I’ll tell her now.”

As she stood up, a stranger walked up to her hesitantly. From his white shirt covered in dirt and mud, Dahlia guessed he was the gardener living just a few blocks away. "Excuse me, ma'am." he said. "Are you alright?"

Dahlia dusted her clothes. Faint clouds of smoke came off from them and rose into the air, then quickly dissipated. "Yeah, I am. Don't worry," she replied. "Thanks for the concern."

The man pointed to the entrance. "Does your establishment usually do... this?"

"What, collapse? Yeah, does it all the time."

"Well, if you say so," he replied, trailing off. "Shouldn't you be at the market fair as well, too? Make the most of the Golden Week."

"I couldn't make it this year. It's too far from Rosavern nowadays." Dahlia walked dejectedly past him. "Well, not that it matters. I'm going there, anyway."

"Huh? Why?"

"The only one who can fix this place is there with Camellia," she replied, and groaned. "Ugh, Camellia." 

"Oh, the blacksmith?"

"Yep."

"The road there is quite long, and the shortcuts are infested with puffbits this season. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll manage. I'm used to this."

She walked inside the bar, and came out shortly after, holding a small flask covered by a small piece of cloth on top. A green liquid glowed and swirled inside it. She stepped a few feet away, and threw the bottle at the hole, much to the surprise of the stranger and the people still looking curiously at her. It shattered, and the liquid spread across the ground.

A transparent, faintly green screen rose from below, pushing away the pieces of debris there both inside and outside. It reached the top of the doorframe, shimmering slightly, and closing the hole off, though not covering it from people's view.

"What is this?" the stranger asked.

"A screen potion from Silas. I thought it'd come in handy someday."

"Huh. You really are used to this," he remarked.

"Ah, I lied. This is the first time this has happened," Dahlia said, earning a confused look from him. "But I figured it was going to happen someday, so I thought I'd prepare anyway."

Dahlia walked off and waved back at him. "I'll be going now. Again, thanks for your concern," she said.

He waved back, and took a long look at the wreckage behind him. Dahlia thought she had seen enough of it herself, and looked away.

Rumors spread quickly in Caldemount, and soon, even the people that were far from Rosavern were giving her concerned looks. Dahlia just blankly ignored them. She knew those people meant well, and the gaping hole in her establishment would normally concern her, especially for its reputation. However, with how sudden everything happened, she didn't care enough to be worried anymore. If the situation could get worse, she doubted it would be enough to faze her.

She had planned on taking one of the shorter off-road paths like the man earlier mentioned, but those trails were a lot more dangerous than they usually were during puffbit season. The pink, bunny-like animals are fierce creatures during this period, becoming as territorial as the butterflits of Griffondell. It was the occasional massive nuisance for Dahlia. Rosavern wasn’t situated inside puffbit territory, but it was just close enough that the occasional group harassed the inn and drove customers away. On the worst days, no one would even go at all. It was enough to convince her to just take the far longer, but safer roads inside the city.

As she sauntered amidst the noise, a familiar figure passed her in the distance. She looked at his peach hair and beige uniform, along with his leather tool belt, and lit up as she recognized him.

“Peanut!” she shouted, waving at him.

The person in question stopped in his tracks and looked towards her. After a moment, he recognized her and waved back, a red curvy dagger in hand. “Hi, Dahlia,” he said, softly.

Dahlia strode briskly towards Peanut, and moved in for a hug, who returned it. “It’s been so long!” she said as they parted.

Peanut smiled slightly. “ It has.”

“What are you doing in Caldemount? Taking a break?”

“Yes. I wanted Belladona to fix my armor, but I didn’t see her in her shop.”

“Hardworking even in your day-off! You haven’t changed a bit,” Dahlia said. Then she stopped. “Oh hey, I’m going to Belladona, too.”

“Why?”

“I need her to fix uh... some supports at Rosavern.”

“You know where she is?”

“She’s with a friend at the town center. I was going to take the path through Puff Pasture, but the puffbits are very fierce this time of year.”

Peanut lit up a bit. “Oh, I can take you through there, then. Puffbits shouldn’t be too much trouble. Just show me the way.”

“Nice! It’s settled, then. It’s this way,” Dahlia said, pointing to a gap between two houses behind her. Peanut, though a bit surprised, followed her.

The two went towards the gap, which revealed an open, green area at the end. In the distance, they could see a straight trail that stretched towards a barely visible part of town. A few scattered puffbits were already eyeing them, but none were close enough that they encroached on the animals’ territory.

Dahlia pointed towards its direction. “That’s the town center. And that’s the trail we have to follow.”

“Oh, I haven’t gone through this part of Puff Pasture before,” Peanut replied.

“Well, most people generally never go through here. There’s too many puffbits and even pufforts here for them to handle.”

Peanut paused. “You wouldn’t be leading us to a path that’s too dangerous, are you?” he asked in an uncharacteristically worried tone.

“Don’t worry about it!” said Dahlia. “You’ve taken down so many pufforts already. Puffbits are nothing against your dagger.”

"If you say so," he said, smiling. The two started walking in the trail.

“Actually, come to think of it, aren’t there supposed to be blacksmiths in uh...” Dahlia paused for a bit. “Where were you stationed again a few years ago?”

“Valley of Gold,” Peanut responded.

“Yeah, Valley of Gold.”

“There is, but Mr. Xad has mostly been busy helping close off the trade deals between the humans and Goldins ever since then. I never had the time to ask him in the times I was there. Asteria has also been busy as a representative for humans too, so I couldn’t consult with her.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened.

“Oooh, Asteria,” she said. A playful smirk creased her face. “Could she perhaps be a ‘special’ friend of yours?”

“No, no. Not at all,” Peanut said bashfully. She’s as much a friend as you are to me.”

Dahlia chuckled. "She must be a very good friend, then.”

“She is."

Some rustling noises in the distance caught his attention. Peanut turned to their direction.

A group of puffbits were approaching the two quickly. Peanut entered a defensive stance, holding his dagger in front, while Dahlia stood behind him. She looked slightly concerned, though strangely unfazed.

“Well, that was quick,” she remarked.

“You should back away more. There’s quite a bit of them,” Peanut said.

“It’s fine. I can handle a puffbit or three. And I trust you.”

Peanut chuckled. “Well, alright then.”

The puffbits growled in a high-pitched, almost deafening voice, making what little teeth they had almost look intimidating. It betrayed the delicate look of their pink skin and the fluffy hairs of their tuft tails. Their small almond-shaped bodies hopped vigorously, getting closer and closer with each hop. Peanut lowered his legs and held his dagger tightly. He didn’t have his shield with him, so he merely pointed the weapon in front of him.

Three puffbits lunged towards him. He struck at the first with the end of the dagger, disorienting and stunning it. The other two stopped and became hesitant to approach him, but soon jumped at him as well. He struck the second in a similar manner, and it fell mid-hop towards the ground.

The third, and the rest of the puffbits stopped. Though their hops remained vigorous, none of them were getting closer. The third stopped hopping for a moment and lowered its tail. Peanut loosened his grip and waited for its next move.

The puffbit went for his hands. He raised it and jumped back, slashing at the animal’s tuft tail. The force of the swing threw it off balance. As it tried to regain its footing, Peanut charged at it, and struck it harder than the other two. It was unconscious before it could stand.

They lay on the ground, and the rest scattered upon seeing them. The attack ended as swiftly as it started. Peanut lowered his dagger and looked at the unconscious puffbits below him. “I think that’s all of them,” he said.

He heard more rustling voices behind him, and raised his dagger as he turned around. However, he was too late. Three puffbits were already lunging at him, baring their teeth and screeching loudly. His eyes widened. He crossed his arms in front of him, and braced for impact.

He heard several loud thuds and instinctively moved his body back. However, nothing happened.

He looked past his arms, and saw the puffbits unconscious and laying on the ground, in the same manner as the ones he took down. He looked up and saw Dahlia holding several large rocks.

“Oh, dear Eolin, that was a close one,” she said. She dropped the rocks and ran towards Peanut. “You alright?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Don’t worry. I was ready to take one or two hits." He put his dagger back in its holster.

Peanut chuckled. “I don’t think you need me here after all," he said.

"Heh, I can handle several puffbits, but not much more, and certainly not alone," Dahlia replied.

"Then good job," he raised his fist towards Dahlia, who raised hers and lightly tapped Peanut's.

"You too," she replied.

The two recollected themselves, and dusted their clothes. After being sure they were clean, they resumed their walking.

“This is far more trouble than I expected just to reach a market,” Dahlia said.

“Well, you did say it was puffbit season, after all. Winter's coming soon. They're probably protecting their food,” Peanut said.

"Or their children."

Peanut waved off a leaf that was falling slowly near him. It flew near Dahlia instead, who waved it off as well. "Ah, sorry," Peanut said.

"It's fine," Dahlia replied. The leaf fell behind them. Peanut looked back and saw it rest on the ground.

“Who is this friend Belladona’s with?” he asked, turning to Dahlia.

Dahlia let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Ugh. It’s Camellia.”

“Ah.”

Dahlia looked deflated as she talked about her. “I didn’t want to mention her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It just feels like I would’ve lost.”

“Lost?” Peanut asked, amused. “I don’t really get it, but I don’t think she’d care about it much,” he said. “What do you have against her, anyway?”

“Well, I mean, she’s just such a prudish, rich jerk! She keeps going on about how drinking is wrong and dirty and stuff, when she hasn’t even tried it for herself!”

“Well,” Peanut said, pausing for a moment, “drinking isn’t for everyone, is it?”

“Yeah, I get that, but she just comes off as someone who avoids people she deems ‘commoners.’” Dahlia made air-quotes with her hands at the last word.

“And where do you get that impression?”

“Her holier-than-thou attitude, her hoity-toity aura. I mean, I don’t know what exactly, but she, I don’t know, she-” Dahlia paused. “Ugh, she just annoys me to no end!”

Peanut laughed softly, looking very amused. “I think you’re judging her too quickly here.”

Dahlia let out another exasperated sigh. “Ugh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

\-------------------------

Camellia adjusted the sign on her stall, then came down from the chair she stood on. “Camellia’s Wares and Trades,” it said proudly in pink, capital letters, sitting on the middle of the stall’s pointed, pink roof. They were as pink as her hair, eyeliner, even her clothing. Her bonnet was lined with a yellow ribbon, and was adorned by a rose and two white ribbons. Her dress reached all the way to her feet, which gave her a composed and poised look even as she was fixing the sign.

It had kept getting crooked for a while now thanks to a certain someone who kept pounding on the counter. She refused to leave Camellia alone.

“Hey, be careful!” she said as the said person pounded at it again, laughing uncontrollably. Various objects and wares displayed on it shook in their place as she did.

“And then I told her, ‘Ma’am, your armor’s perfectly fine, it just needs to be frozen in ice to make it sturdier.’ Two weeks later, she came back to me and her armor was inside a block of ice! I couldn’t stop laughing!”

“Ms. Belladona, please leave,” said Camellia.

“For the last time, Cam-"

“And please don’t call me that.”

“-call me Belle! None of those unnecessary formalities,” Belladona said, hiccupping in between words. She had striking magenta hair in contrast with the light metal armor she wore. Underneath it, she wore a black suit and pants, though the armor made it look as if the two were connected. Her boots and gloves were also made from leather to match, along with a tool belt slung around her hip.

“Business partners like us need to stick together!” she said, as she took another big shot from her bottle, then slammed it loudly on the counter.

“No,” Camellia replied, absent-mindedly. She stopped listening to Belladona the moment she said ‘Belle,’ but instinctively said no anyway for what was likely the sixth time.

Belladona drunkenly scanned her wares. She looked at the assortment of fruits, flowers, weapons, and other materials on the counter or on shelves above it. The foliage enclosed in bottles gave the stall a colorful, garden-like appearance, while the weapons’ metallic visage adorning the dark, wooden racks gave it a hard, polished sheen. The wooden counter’s light, shiny veneer reflected much like the metal stands flanking it, and the bottles on top of it. It was as much an artistic display as it was a merchant’s.

Belladona eyed the various plants, then lowered her brows. “Wait,” she said, “where are your potions?”

“That’s a trade I’m not proficient in yet,” Camellia replied.

“Why?” Belladona rested her head on the counter.

Camilla gave her an annoyed look. “I haven’t made enough connections to be a trusted merchant for it,” she said. “Merchants take their reputations very seriously, and I won’t pass in their eyes. I do need to expand soon, though, if I want to stay in the business.”

Belladona snored.

Camellia let out a frustrated grunt and slammed her hand on the counter. Belladona jolted awake, but immediately moved to rest her head on it again.

“Honestly,” she said, “didn’t you say you were here to tell me something important?” she asked, wiping the counter. Belladona seemed to be falling asleep for the second time, hugging her bottle tightly.

“Ah, I did, actually,” Belladona replied softly.

“And?”

“I don’t know, I forgot,” she said, hugging the bottle even tighter.

Camellia groaned. “Ms. Belladona, please leav- oh, for the love of Eolin!”

The sign became crooked again. Belladona had completely fallen asleep, snoring softly. Camellia frustratedly stood on her chair again and reached to fix the sign.

As she unsuccessfully tried to push it back to its place, a loud voice startled her off the chair. She nearly lost her balance, wobbling and shaking with the chair, but she managed to stabilize it and regain her footing.

She hurriedly jumped off the chair and scanned her surroundings. A human-shaped silhouette took form as it got closer, running, then soon became visible a block away. However, the crowd of other people and stalls made it difficult for Camellia to make out their face.

From the distance, she could see their creamy yellow hair and the blue cape they were wearing. As they got closer, she could make out a white shirt underneath the cape, along with a blue headband, a leather belt, and boots. They got close enough that Camellia could make out their face, and as soon as she saw the wheat stalk in their mouth, she immediately recognized them.

“Silas!” she shouted, calling out to him. “Was that you?”

Silas stopped near the stall, panting heavily. “Yes, sorry,” he replied after catching his breath, taking the stalk out of his mouth. “I was calling out to you. It’s a bit urgent.”

He let out a large breath. “I must say, your stall was hard to find. I wasn’t expecting that from someone like you.”

“Ah, that’s...” Camellia waved her hand dismissively. “The spots near the center were filled far more quickly than I expected. I went on a trade meeting on the week of preparations because I thought I had time. Before I knew it, I had to settle for this one.”

“Ah, I see-" He heard someone snoring softly, snapping him out of his fatigue. He looked to the counter, and saw Belladona’s sleeping figure.

“Is that... Belladona?” he asked, pointing at her.

“Ignore her,” Camellia replied plainly.

He nodded hesitantly. "Sure," he said.

"So, what is it that you need?"

“I needed to buy something from you real quick,” he said. “I’ve got a big order I need to fill right now, and I’m missing a lot of fireblooms.”

He handed a piece of paper to Camellia, who took it. “The Postknight Academy stationed a lot of their units at Caldemount for next week, so they need a batch of green potions.”

Camellia skimmed the paper. “How big of a batch do they need?”

“One of my large-sized ones.”

“Ah, that’ll indeed be a lot, then,” Camellia said. She gave the paper back to Silas.

“They don’t have to be enhancers. Cleansers will do.”

Camellia lit up. “Oh, then take what you need.” She pointed to the section of her stall filled with all sorts of plants and various materials. “We’ve recently managed to secure a particularly fruitful trade of fireblooms and grottoshrooms.”

“Oh, grottoshrooms? I haven’t worked with that much before.” Silas moved closer to inspect the said plant. Several bottles were filled with them. Although they looked like typical blue mushrooms, he found the white, star-like spots covering each one peculiar, particularly the faint white glow emanating from them. It was still visible even under the shaded sunlight.

“How effective will they make my potions?”

“Very effective. An alchemist in the Valley of Gold regularly uses them, and her potions were as clear as water, but still had that striking color. Goes down the throat very easily.”

“How did it taste?”

“The medical potions tasted awful, unfortunately,” Camellia chuckled. “There’s still not much we can do in that regard. The other potions that used grottoshrooms, however, tasted wonderfully.”

“Hm.” Silas looked at the other bottles. They were filled with more exotic-looking materials. He eyed the green, spiral-shaped galesips for a few moments, but looked away eventually.

“I’ll take five batches of the grottoshrooms as well. I suppose I can experiment a little,” he said.

“Ah, that should be enough to create your usual batch.” Camellia said cheerfully, then reached beneath the counter. A few moments later, she took out two pink chests with heart-shaped locks. “I’ll pack your order now,” she said.

She took three bottles and poured their contents into the first chest, stopping at half of the third bottle. She then took several bottles of fireblooms and poured the pinecone-shaped flowers into the second chest. Their fiery yellow heads contrasted with their red and green petals. After making sure there were enough, she closed the chests and put them inside a paper bag.

“Thank you for your patronage, Silas,” she said, giving it to him.

“My pleasure,” he said. Then he paused for a moment.

"Actually, my patronage may soon extend beyond just being a regular buyer.”

Camellia stopped. “Oh?” she replied, intrigued. “This is news to me.”

“Lots of business opportunities opened when Peanut defeated those cultists,” Silas said. “There’s a sudden rise in demand for postknights now, so I’ll need to keep up. This order is likely just a taste of things to come. I know you’ve been looking to expand your trades to potions as well.”

“...I am, indeed." Camellia stared at Silas. “What do you need from me?”

“Well, nothing’s set in stone yet, but...” Silas took out a blue piece of paper, and set it on the counter. Camellia took the paper, and read it.

“Travel papers?”

Silas grinned. “For my wife. I want her to go with you someday.”

Camellia’s eyes widened. “With me?”

“I’ll give you batches of my potions to take into your trade deals. Sell them in your travels, and you’ll take a cut of the profits.”

Camellia nodded slowly. “And I suppose your wife will be there to look after things?”

“Yes. But, in return, she can be one of your assistants as well. Free of charge.”

“And your daughter?” Camellia said.

She put the paper down on the counter. Silas took it and put it back inside his pocket.

“She’s staying with me,” he replied.

Camellia paused, then furrowed her brows. She exhaled. “It’s a good offer, Silas. No, it’s a great offer. Your potions have the potential to take off, especially deeper into the outskirts of Kurestal where people need them far more."

“But...?”

“But the trading business is a complicated network, and some wares have their own specific set of rules.” Camellia pointed to the products she’s selling. “Things like raw materials are usually simple since their quality can be judged from just looking at them, but goods like weapons and potions need to come from a reputable source.”

“Aren’t you a reputable source yourself?”

“I am, yes. My father acquired a spot in Lumero’s list back when he was still the one running the business.”

“Lumero?”

“Ah, it’s a guild made of other merchants that act as representatives for us. They’re the ones that oversee operations in West Kurestal. They establish connections between traders, verify their credibility, and so forth.”

Silas lowered his brows. “Then, what’s the problem? You’re deemed trustworthy already.”

Because some merchants aren’t satisfied with just one source.” Camellia reached beneath her counter and pulled out a red, curvy dagger.

“This is a feral dagger,” she said, holding it out to Silas. He examined it carefully. “I acquired it from a trade deal in Griffondell. Its fiery handle is an eye-catching one, and its dense but light metal disorients its enemies. It’s a very popular weapon. I’ve seen it from at least four other merchants.”

She reached beneath the counter again, and pulled out a thin sheet of metal. Camellia held up the front towards Silas. On top of it, signatures and names were emblazoned and laid out in an organized manner.

“And every single one of them has seen it from each other as well.” She pointed to a signature at one end of the metal sheet, reading like her name. “This is my signature.”

Silas gave the sheet a puzzled look. “Every merchant does this?”

“No, but just enough that having something like this comes in handy. Weapons and potions usually require special verification systems like these. And it changes from time to time.” Camellia looked at the sheet sardonically. “I told you, it’s complicated,” she said.

She put the sheet down and looked at Silas intently. “If you want your potions to be sold by merchants, you need to gain the approval of at least five of us. They can’t just be anyone either. Merchants know who each other are, and they won’t accept signatures of those that they don’t. If they haven’t heard of you, or you don’t have an established reputation, you’re not getting their signature.”

She put the dagger and the metal sheet back beneath the counter, then set her arms down. “I can talk to two that I trust and trust me, and you’ll surely have mine, but I don’t know any potion merchants beyond that.”

Silas looked down, and paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose I didn’t expect this to be without its problems,” he said, chuckling. “Finding a trusted merchant is going to be hard, though.”

Camellia smiled pensively. “I want to make this work as much as you. I need to expand my trades soon as well. But finding other traders like that is no easy task without existing connections.”

Belladona suddenly jolted awake. Silas and Camellia jumped back in surprise as she stretched her arms and yawned loudly, then rubbed her eyes. She noticed the bottle her arms were hugging tightly, and made a puzzled face.

“Where am I?” she asked.

Silas and Camellia breathed a sigh of relief.

“I had completely forgotten you were there,” Camellia said.

“Oh, hi Camellia,” Belladona replied. Unlike her drunk demeanor earlier, this time, she talked with a calm, composed voice. She turned to her back, and saw Silas. “You too, Silas,” she told him.

“Likewise,” he replied.

She looked around her. “I’m not... interrupting anything, am I?”

Camellia sighed. “It’s fine. You already did.”

“Ah,” Belladona said sheepishly. “My apologies.” She took her bottle and stood up. “It seems I was a tad too drunk earlier.”

Camellia stared blankly. “A tad?”

“Hm?” Belladona said, giving a clueless look. She had taken a leather bag from the end of the counter and was rummaging it for something.

Camellia sighed again. “Nevermind.”

“How do you get sober so quickly anyway?” Silas asked. “You go to Rosavern almost everyday, yet I haven’t seen you once get a hangover.”

“I’m blessed by the gods of Ameranne, I suppose,” she said with an amused face. “I reckon the people there are my people.”

Camellia rolled her eyes. “If you’re blessed by the gods of Ameranne, they’d at least give you some of its wine.”

“Ah, a trade deal with the gods. That doesn’t sound half bad,” Belladona replied. “It reminds me more of Dahlia than you, though. Heh," she continued.

“Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Dahlia! I remember what I was going to tell you now.”

“Huh?” Camellia said. Belladona looked through a different pocket in her bag, and after a few moments, took out a piece of paper.

“Another piece of paper?” Camellia whispered, mostly to herself.

“I’ll be fixing Rosavern’s supports tomorrow. And, while I was out looking for materials, I heard some interesting things from a fellow blacksmith.”

\-------------------------

Peanut undid the straps of his toolbelt and gave it to Dahlia. “You can roll it to make it easier to carry," he said.

"Ah, right,” Dahlia replied.

"Thanks for carrying them for me."

"Of course! It seemed counterproductive for my bodyguard to carry a heavy load."

"Heh," Peanut said. "I suppose you can call me that.”

Dahlia rolled the toolbelt quickly, and held it in one hand. Peanut knelt on one knee and reached for the bootstrap at his feet. He took out and handed Dahlia a pentagonal bottle plugged by a wooden cork. Inside it, a lavender liquid swirled and glowed lightly.

“Your potion was green when you left Caldemount, right?” Dahlia asked, inspecting the bottle, then putting it down.

“It was, but the alchemist in Valley of Gold sold me that.” Peanut stood up, and both started walking again. “It was quite expensive, but it’s made deliveries safer even in the deeper part of the caves.”

“Postknights buy their own stuff?”

“Most of it is provided for by the academy, but we buy some of it. I heard they’re going to start trying to provide for our potions starting next week, though.”

Dahlia grinned. “It seems like the academy has gotten bigger since you left.”

“Yeah, it has. I’m glad for it,” Peanut replied. “How about you, though? How has managing Rosavern been?”

“Oh, man. It’s been hell.” Dahlia slumped wearily. “The building’s falle- _falling_ apart, business has been slow, and the damn puffbits drive away what little customers I get nowadays.”

“Business has been slow?” Peanut asked. “I had expected it to be booming by now, considering your father’s reputation.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not the only inn in Caldemount.”

“You’ve always had the best beds out of all the inns I’ve stayed in, though. Even others say so.”

“We’re not exactly situated in the best place. Rosavern was built where it is when most of Caldemount’s business still wasn’t in the town center. Nowadays, not as many people go there.”

A plaintive look covered Dahlia’s face. She sighed, then looked on. “I promised my father I’d carry on its legacy,” she said. “But I’ve often wondered if it’s just time to move on soon.”

Peanut looked at Dahlia’s pensive expression, then looked away. He had never seen Dahlia wear a look like that before. He turned as silent as her, hesitant to speak. Several seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, and only the rustling of puffbits filled the silence. Peanut saw the stalls of the market grow bigger and clearer as they got closer. Realizing the silence would be broken soon, he finally spoke.

“Well, I don’t really have a right answer to that one. I don’t think it even has one. But,” he said, letting out a long breath, “I think it’d be even more of a loss if you gave up now.”

Dahlia’s expression softened.

Peanut continued, “More than anything, I think your father would want you to fail because you tried instead of doing nothing.”

Dahlia remained silent for several seconds. Then she chuckled once, then twice, then thrice, until she was laughing softly. The sound of her laughter filled the silence. “That is so like you,” she said.

“Like me?”

“It was so corny.”

Peanut smiled. “But did it work?”

Dahlia’s laughs slowed, then lessened until she could speak. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think it did.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I’ll try my best. Thanks, Peanut.” Dahlia lifted her fist up and held it towards Peanut.

“Of course,” Peanut replied, holding his fist up as well and lightly tapping Dahlia’s. “You’ll do well, I’m sure.”

The loud hustle and bustle of crowds soon became loud enough that Dahlia and Peanut took notice. “Ah,” Dahlia said with her usual smile. “I think we’re here.”

The trail ended behind a stall filled with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Some were a faint yellow, but most were rich greens. A green-haired girl wearing similarly green clothes and a slightly darker green beret was selling them to a modest crowd. Dahlia and Peanut walked around it, earning some confused stares from the girl and the crowd. They tried not to return their looks, though that didn’t help much.

“Uh... excuse me?” the girl said, suddenly calling out to them. They slowly turned to her. An awkward mood filled the air. “Where did you guys come from?”

Dahlia sighed. “I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush,” she said. “We came through Puff Pasture.”

“During puffbit season?”

“Yes.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She suddenly ran towards Dahlia and shook her hand eagerly, much to the latter’s bewilderment. “My name is Elena,” she said, still shaking Dahlia’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you!”

“Uhh, yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied. Her hand was getting tired, and Elena still hasn’t let it go. “Can you let go of my hand, please?”

Elena did as she was asked. “Ah, sorry, sorry!” she said with an embarrassed smile, scratching her head sheepishly. “I just wanted be as friendly as possible because I need something from you guys.”

“I... appreciate the honesty?” Dahlia looked even more bewildered.

“Thanks!” Elena said. “I try my best.” She ran back to her stall. She swiftly gave the remaining customers their orders, thanked them as they left, then went running back to the two.

“She’s... lively,” Peanut remarked.

“She could make a good postknight with that energy, honestly,” Dahlia said as Elena stopped near them, showing no signs of exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Elena said, turning to Peanut, “but I just noticed the license near your dagger’s holster and thought I could get a recommendation to get into the academy because I also want to be a postknight!”

“Oh, wow.” Dahlia gave up trying to predict Elena, and just let the peculiar girl baffle her further. She had thought that with the way Elena asked them about going through Puff Pasture, she was going to ask them to protect her stall or some other job befitting their feat.

“I... yes, I keep it there,” Peanut said as he reached for the purple card sticking out from his front pocket, and took it out. “Sorry, how did you notice that?”

“I _really_ love postknights! I visit your academy once a month with my twin siblings and I just watch you guys run around doing postknight things and it’s the always the best six hours of my life!”

Peanut nodded slowly. “Six... hours?”

“Yes! I try to talk to some of you guys, but I’m always scared! Oh, there’s this one silvery white-haired girl that looked even shyer than me, though. She was cute!”

“Are you talking about Pearl?”

“I think so. Maybe. I don’t really know!” Elena said. She laughed loudly as she did.

“Yes, well...” Peanut tried to recollect himself. “You don’t really need a recommendation to get in.”

Elena gasped. “Really?”

“Yes. You just need to talk to go into the academy and talk to Cassandra. She’ll tell you what to do.”

“Oh no! But I’m too shy to go in there!”

“I... I disagree.”

“Ah! I got carried away asking about postknights!” Elena said, covering her mouth.

“You think?” Dahlia replied.

“I was going to ask you two to protect my stall from puffbits!”

Dahlia stared blankly.

“I’m willing to pay for your services. I need to protect my goods from those pesky puffbits, after all!”

“Well, Peanut,” Dahlia said. “Go spend time with your new friend.”

Peanut’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Elena pranced around excitedly, her hands shyly covering her mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m honored to be your friend too, Mr. Peanut!”

“Wait, no-”

“Please,” Dahlia said blankly. “I’ll make it up to you, please.”

“I mean, I-” Peanut looked at Elena, still jumping around where she stood, then at Dahlia’s empty yet pleading stare. He let out a deep, long sigh. “Fine. You owe me one, Dahlia.”

“I know,” Dahlia replied. She turned to Elena. “Well, have fun with Peanut, Elena! He’s a very nice guy, I promise.”

Somehow, Elena’s movements became even more frantic. “I know!”

Dahlia smiled wryly. “I’ll tell Belladona about your order, Peanut.”

Peanut looked like he immediately regretted his decision. It almost made Dahlia want to go back to him, but she managed to walk away. In the distance, Peanut and Elena’s voice became softer and softer.

“Woah, is that a feral dagger?” she heard Elena say.

“I... yes. Yes, it is,” Peanut replied wearily.

That was as much as Dahlia could hear of their conversation. She walked more quickly so she didn’t have to hear Peanut and feel further guilty for him. She would just have to repay him in some way later.

Dahlia ambled casually amidst the crowds. The market was as busy and chaotic as Dahlia expected. Customers walked in random paths around each other, while vendors ran around their stalls busy managing the line of customers in front of them. Some frantically ran to other stalls to get change. The dark gray roads of the town center winded inside and through each other, leading to more roads outside it. Various stalls with differing colors, and the wares inside them gave the market a lively and energetic atmosphere. As much as it was a busy event, it was also an exciting one, much to Dahlia’s delight. She had been looking forward to going to events like these once she could take a day off managing Rosavern.

She started searching for a pink stall, one she couldn’t possibly miss. Camellia loved the color pink. It was another thing about her that Dahlia was annoyed at so much. She personally didn’t care for the color, nor what other people thought of it, but somehow, knowing that Camellia likes it so much makes her hate it in return. She knew it was petty, but she couldn’t help herself.

As she walked through the stalls, she saw various wares being sold. One stall was selling a multitude of dairy products. The vendors were handing over eggs, milk, butter, and others. In their hurried efforts to speed up the line, a tray of eggs fell near one of them. Dahlia winced, and moved on. 

One stall was selling ale and other alcoholic drinks. Tiny bubbles rose from below the large cups and bottles to the top of their blonde and amber drinks. Dahlia almost wanted to go there, and buy herself a drink, though she managed to remind herself what she was there for. She made a mental note of beating the stall in the next market fair, assuming she could attend it.

Another red stall lined with white stripes was selling weapons, shields, and a whole assortment of metallic paraphernalia. She also saw a metal arm among the weapons, and raised her eyebrows further when she saw a one-armed man with a burly mustache eyeing it.

“That’s a thing?” she said to herself.

“Oh. Hey there, Dahlia,” a voice in the distance says.

Dahlia turned towards the voice and saw Silas walking quickly towards her direction, though he stopped near her. “Oh, hey Silas. Has the potion business been good?”

“It has, actually,” he replied. “I’ve been looking for ways to expand my reach through Camellia, too. It looks like it might just work.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened. “Wait, Camellia?”

“Yeah, I was just discussing it with her. Belladona’s discussing something else with her, too, but I had to go already.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s uh...” Silas paused, and thought for a moment, then pointed to a corner near them. “Go right through here, and just keep going straight. Her stall is mostly pink. You shouldn’t miss it.”

Dahlia ran towards the corner, and looked to her back, waving at Silas. “Thanks, Silas! I’ll see you later.”

Silas waved back modestly, then went on his way.

Dahlia passed through a myriad of stalls, but none were pink. As she ran further, she saw a few ones that looked vaguely the color she was looking for, but none of them were as striking as Dahlia knew Camellia’s stall was going to be, or were really just light red stalls that looked pink in the bright sunlight. The lack of people in this part of the market helped since it meant she had a full view of all the stalls lining the long, straight path she was running on. However, even then, she couldn't find anything.

After a few minutes, she stopped running, realizing she wasn’t going to see Camellia's stall anytime soon. She panted a bit, then looked around her. She scratched her head.

“Why on earth is your stall so deep in the market?” she whispered.

As Dahlia regained her breath, an old woman passed from the stall beside her. The woman was wearing a white apron with brown clothes beneath it, and a blue cloth wrapped around her head, displaying a chef's hat in front. Dahlia figured she was a baker. She held out her hand and lightly tapped the would-be baker's shoulder, catching her attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said. “Have you seen Camellia’s stall? Popular trader in these parts. You can’t miss her.”

“Ohh...” the old woman drawled. “Yes, honey... I have...”

Dahlia snapped to attention. “Where is it?” she asked eagerly.

She slowly raised her left hand, her frail body trying its best to exert an outwardly negligible effort. Dahlia felt impatient, but mostly pity and guilt at the woman’s attempts. She almost wanted to stop her. After several seconds, the woman pointed to the left. Dahlia looked towards it.

“Here? Ma’am, there’s only a blue stall here,” she said, confused.

“No, no, no...” the woman replied. “My stall... Behind...”

Dahlia paused for a moment, then lit up in recognition. “Oh! I didn't know there were still stalls behind here. Thank you, ma’am!" she said. "Will you be okay here alone?”

“Ha!” the woman replied with an unnaturally spirited voice. “Don’t worry, honey... This woman can still... handle herself...”

Dahlia wanted to help her, but decided to trust her on her words. She sounded like she could anyway. She ran towards the direction she pointed. “Thank you again!” she said, waving and looking back at her.

The old woman waved back.

A short trail behind the blue stall led to an open, circular area. Two trees stood at its edges. A few animals – squirrels, moles, and raccoons – ran around scavenging leftovers scattered around it. Various stalls encircled it, making it very difficult for anyone who didn’t realize such an area even existed to reach it. At its center, among other smaller ones, stood a large, pink stall. “Camellia’s Wares and Trades,” a sign above it said proudly in capital letters, colored in the same striking hue.

“Ugh, finally,” she said. “The idiot must have ran out of spots near the center to set up on.”

In the distance, she could see Belladona’s magenta hair & light armor and Camellia’s very, very pink clothing. Just as Silas said, it looked like Belladona was talking intently to Camellia about something. She walked towards them. From the distance, she could make out their conservation.

“-just wouldn’t work,” Camellia said. “I do need someone, but it can’t just be anyone. You know that.”

“You’re not at a position to choose right now. This could be your chance,” Belladona replied.

“If this woman doesn’t turn out to be someone we can rely on, it could make my reputation worse.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Hi, guys,” Dahlia said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Camellia and Belladona looked towards her. Once they realized it was her, Belladona smiled while Camellia grimaced.

“Hey, Dahlia,” Belladona said.

“What are you doing here?” Camellia said with an annoyed tone.

“Nice to meet you too, Camellia,” Dahlia said sarcastically. She smiled facetiously at her. “How has business been going?”

“None of your business.”

“Nice pun."

Camellia groaned. “Please just answer the question.”

Dahlia laughed, looking entertained. “Sure, sure," she said. She turned to Belladona. “I was looking for you, actually.”

“Oh, me?” Belladona replied, slightly surprised. “What is it? Is this about fixing Rosavern?”

“Yeah...” Dahlia looked hesitant to elaborate. “The front doors fell. There’s just a giant hole there now.”

“Oh. Oh dear,” Belladona said as she winced. Even Camellia almost looked like pitying Dahlia, but caught herself.

"Wait, so you just left Rosavern open like that?" Belladona asked.

"Ah, no. No, no. Of course not. I bought a screen potion from Silas a while ago in case something like this happens," Dahlia replied. "It was expensive, but worth it."

"You were expecting this to happen, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Then yeah. Yeah, sure," Belladona said as she slung her bag around her shoulder. I’ll start what I can right now.”

“Thanks," Dahlia replied. "Oh, and Peanut also needs you to fix his armor.”

“Oh, Peanut’s back?” Camellia asked.

“Yes, Camellia,” Dahlia said derisively, still as sarcastic as before, earning an annoyed glare from the merchant.

“Sure. I’ll handle those tomorrow. Thanks for telling me.” Belladona rummaged her bag, opening the next pocket once she was done with the previous one. “Ah, I have a few tools missing. I’ll need to get them from the shop. We’ll have to continue our talk some other day, Camellia.”

“That’s fine,” Camellia replied.

“What were you two talking about?” Dahlia asked.

“Ah... business talk. Mostly for Camellia,” Belladona replied. “Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Dahlia. I just had a great idea!”

Camellia looked taken aback and stared at Belladona curiously.

“Ok...?” Dahlia said, confused.

“We were talking about this blacksmith acquaintance of mine. He told me about this interesting noblewoman. Her family's about to come back from some sort of business trip, and she's going to meet them somewhere in this part of the city”

“Lots of nobility come and go in the streets all the time,” Dahlia remarked. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, but this one is different. She's allegedly been recommending establishments she really liked on the other side of town to the people there recently,” Belladona replied. “It’s actually quite crazy. People really trust her words. Just being visited by her is already a big deal.”

“Camellia, can you give Dahlia the piece of paper I gave you?” Belladona told Camellia.

Camellia took the paper out, and reached towards Dahlia. The two looked at each other with mutually irritated looks before Dahlia took it. She scanned the contents of the paper. A few seconds later, she looked baffled.

Belladona smirked at Dahlia's bemused look. “Those are all the names of the rumored establishments that have benefited from her word.”

“There must be at least 15 businesses here.”

“19, to be exact. Like I told you, her word is powerful.”

“And all of these are still doing well today?”

“Not all of them, but most are.”

"Which is still a very big deal." Dahlia trailed off as she read the names of the businesses.

"Exactly."

“Well,” Dahlia said, lowering the piece of paper and looking at Belladona. “How does this concern me?”

“It concerns both of you."

“Wait, what?” Camellia suddenly interjected. “You didn’t tell me about this, Ms. Belladona.”

“Yes, but Dahlia wasn’t here yet.”

“I’m confused,” Dahlia said. “How does this concern both of us?”

“Camellia needs to expand her trades towards potions, and Dahlia needs a patron to keep Rosavern standing.”

“Yes?” Dahlia said, still confused.

“What are you getting at with this?” Camellia asked.

Belladona grinned. She looked at Camellia. “Camellia will fund and sponsor Rosavern enough to return it to its heyday and attract the noblewoman to stay there. That’s the only place I can trust her to like enough to stay in. Don't worry, I can fix the entrance in two days."

She turned to Dahlia. "Meanwhile, Dahlia will talk to her. She will make the noblewoman like her enough that she can ask about potion merchants that would hear Camellia out and would be willing to establish connections.”

Belladona seemed oblivious to the increasingly bewildered looks of Dahlia and Camellia as she pulled them both closer with an eager expression.

“I want you two to work together to gain the trust of the noblewoman, Amethyst.”

Dahlia and Camellia stared at Belladona for the longest time before saying, in sync:

“What?!”


	2. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belladona tries to convince Dahlia and Camellia to agree with her plan, while Peanut and Elena grow closer. When the day ends, a conversation with Peanut reveals a hidden side of Dahlia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! First of all, I wanna say my utmost apologies for being so late in updating this story. While I don't have full-on overflowing passion for the story, enough to work on it everyday with full energy, I still love this project and want to see it to its end. 
> 
> I made some changes to the first chapter, mostly grammatical fixes, but there are two parts where the context significantly changes. The gist of those changes is that: Dahlia doesn't hear Peanut and Elena's conversation beyond the first two lines (I also changed Dahlia's reaction a bit) and that Amethyst actually doesn't travel all around Kurestal, but has only been in Caldemount, and recommends establishments she liked there. Do re-read those parts to clear up any confusion!
> 
> The first change is pretty straightforward. If you remember, beyond the first two lines, the conversation takes a surprising turn, and I didn't want to spoil that immediately in the first chapter. As for the second change, Kurechii's current writer clarified to me that Amethyst has actually never left Caldemount, and that this is her goal in PK2, so the narrative of her being a famous traveler becomes incorrect. I adjusted the part that explains this in the first chapter.
> 
> That's it for now. Thanks for sticking with this even now, if you're reading this! Hopefully, I can improve my style as I continue to write this story since this is my first long-term project. I hope I'll see you sooner next time.

“Amethyst’s family actually almost never leaves Caldemount, but she’s an adventurous one so she-”

“No,” said Dahlia. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ll have to reluctantly agree with her, Ms. Belladona. This will never work,” Camellia replied.

Belladona closed her eyes and sighed.

“Yeah,” she said. “I figured that would happen.”

The crowds from the town center had already found their way to the deeper pockets of the market. In the gaps between the stalls surrounding the area around Camellia’s, Belladona could make out a sea of people visiting each one, scattering across the wide road. Vendors scrambled to attend to their sudden new customers. Although there were enough to overwhelm some of the less seasoned ones, none of them took notice of the stalls further behind.

“What makes you think she even has what Camellia needs, anyway?” Dahlia said. “A potion merchant is pretty specific.”

Camellia crossed her arms and nodded. “I realize nobles have plenty of connections, but why would this one in particular be able to help me? From what it sounds like, she can only help Dahlia.”

Dahlia grinned. “Ooh, maybe I _will_ take you up on this offer, Belladona.”

Camellia glared at Dahlia. “You’d still need my help for this, you know.”

“You sure about that?”

“Alright, calm down, you two. I can explain,” Belladona said.

Dahlia chuckled at Camellia’s annoyed look.

“Amethyst came from a noble background that first dealt in trading. It’s the entire reason they rose to their status in the first place,” Belladona said.

“What did they trade?” Camellia asked.

“Everything. Spices, food, weapons, armor, raw materials…” Belladona paused. “Potions.”

Camellia turned to her.

“You should know this better than anyone, Camellia,” she said. “You don’t succeed in your business without at least a few connections in all trades.”

Camellia held her mouth and pondered, staring into the distance. Then she lowered her hand. “How many people do they know?”

“Last I heard, more or less fifty-four.”

Dahlia raised her brows. “Oh, wow,” she said.

Camellia resumed her gaze. “How many people does this noble know?”

Belladona paused before she replied. “I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Well, put simply, she doesn’t tell anyone. Lots of people have asked her for connections to her family, but she’s always kept her mouth shut.”

Camellia furrowed her brows. “If she’s tight-lipped among those people, what will make me any different?”

Belladona smirked and pointed to Dahlia. “Well, that’s where she comes in,” she said.

Dahlia smiled emptily at Belladona. “Oh, boy.”

“Dahlia has always had a way with people. I don’t think she’d deny that.”

Dahlia nodded approvingly. “You got me there.”

Belladona continued, “So, when Amethyst keeps coming back to Rosavern while she’s staying at Caldemount, Dahlia just has to work her magic and she’ll tell you everything you need to know. “A sly expression covered her face. “Maybe you won’t even need to get her drunk.”

“‘When’ she keeps coming back? You seem quite sure, Ms. Belladona,” Camellia remarked.

Belladona smiled. “Of course! Rosavern is the best inn in Caldemount, after all,” she said. Camellia rolled her eyes.

Aww, thanks,” Dahlia replied, then smirked. “But I think you’re making a big oversight here.”

Belladona perked up. “Oh?”

“Let’s assume we agree to this plan of yours, and Camellia does her part. She finances Rosavern and all that,” Dahlia said. “What’s my incentive to talk to this noble and help Camellia? Nothing’s stopping me from just accepting the donation and not doing my part afterwards.”

Belladona smirked as well. “What makes you think Rosavern will survive with just one major donation?”

Dahlia paused.

“Uhh…”

“You never really took a closer look at it, did you? Your dad’s savings allowed you to run for a few years, but that’s run out now.”

“Hey, I’ve been making profits lately!”

But, “Camellia interrupted, prompting Dahlia to look at her. “it’s not nearly enough to make you last for another few years.”

“Spot on,” Belladona said. “Rosavern needs constant financial support until it can stand on its own.”

“Ugh, fine. You got me there. That’s true,” she said, then paused. “Wait. You’re… suggesting I make a noble drunk to wring out delicate info?”

Belladona glanced sideways. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“What other way am I supposed to put it? Do you have any idea how bad that sounds?”

“Look, what I’m saying is, with your talents, it won’t be necessary!” Belladona said, scrambling to clarify herself.

Dahlia crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. “Sorry, Belladona, you’ve played with my feelings enough already.”

Belladona sighed. “Okay, if I buy you drinks for a week, will you do it?”

“…No.”

“Two weeks.”

“…Maybe.”

Belladona grinned. “Heh.”

Camellia narrowed her eyes at Dahlia. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, you don’t see me judging you for your overpriced tea leaves,” Dahlia replied.

Camellia gasped. “Excuse me? Those tea leaves are worth every penny I spend!” she exclaimed. “The Ameranne wine Peanut bought you is far more expensive.”

Dahlia gasped.

“You haven’t even touched it yet.”

“That wine is too valuable to open, and it’s worth every penny Peanut spent! What makes your Quivtol tea any different?”

“That… was a gift from Peanut,” Camellia said, averting her gaze. “It’s different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well, you’re no different! You’ve taken his money, too!”

“T-that’s not the point!”

Belladona slammed her hand on the counter, catching the attention of the two girls. “You realize both of you are equally shameless in this, right,” she said. “Any one of those gifts are almost worth two Imperial Hammers.”

Dahlia waved her hands dismissively, saying, “Well, it’s not like I’m saying I’m not shameless or anyth-”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“Oh.”

Camellia sighed. “Ms. Belladona’s right. We’re both guilty here.”

Dahlia hesitated, but soon replied. “Ugh, fine,” she said. “You’re right.”

“Peanut’s too kind to deny any requests, even if they weren’t explicit,” Belladona said. “The moment you two mentioned those things, he already made the decision to buy them someday.” She rubbed her temples. “And we’re going off-topic.”

Dahlia and Camellia pointed at each other. “Well, it’s her fault!” they said at the same time.

Belladona smiled emptily at the two. “Sometimes, I have to remind myself you’re both working adults.”

Camellia leaned on the counter. “Honestly, Ms. Belladona,” she said. “You know how much the both of us get along. Why choose us to work together?”

“Yeah, and why are you so set on helping us? What do you get out of this?” Dahlia added.

Belladona leaned back and looked up. She crossed her arms. “Well,” she said. “The business landscape is changing so I have to adapt. Those postknights are expanding, and lots of opportunities are opening up because of that. Silas is already making plans himself.”

“Yes, he told me the same things,” Camellia replied.

“Oh. That’s what you two were talking about.”

“Before you interrupted us, yes.”

Belladona scratched her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine. It’s genuinely not a big deal. We were finished talking anyway,” Camellia said. “But that doesn’t answer the question.”

“Well, my shop is situated close to Rosavern. If Rosavern succeeds, those same postknights have a place to stay in somewhere near me. They’ll need someone to take care of their weapons and armor. My business succeeds too.”

“And me?” Camellia said.

“The more people your trades reach, the more people will trust you, and the more people will visit Caldemount just to buy from you. More people visiting here will come to me for their smithing needs. Lesser merchants have been visited here because of the reputation they’ve built in other places. What more from someone like you?”

“And about choosing us?” Dahlia said.

Belladona chuckled. “Oh man, you’re both going to hate me for this.”

Dahlia and Camellia lowered their eyes at Belladona. “What?” they said at the same time.

Belladoa grinned. “You two are in sync far more than you might think.”

Their eyes widened. “What?”

Belladona was laughing softly. “I know you two can’t stand each other, but I get the feeling you’ll both get things done quicker than most other people.”

“What.”

“I just feel like… you’d work well together.”

They stared at Belladona for the longest time, while the latter waited for them to talk, an amused smile on her face. After several moments, Camellia spoke.

“I’m offended,” she said.

“What… even makes you think that?” Dahlia added.

“Heh, trust me, I know occupational chemistry when I see it.”

“You’ll have to explain this chemistry or I’m never agreeing with your plan,” Dahlia replied.

“Sure,” Belladona replied, her amused expression intact.

She pointed to Dahlia, who was taken aback. “The go-and-get-things done type.” She pointed to Camellia, who had the same reaction. “And the detail-oriented type.”

Dahlia and Camellia remained confused.

“Dahlia has the drive to run a business by herself. She can entertain customers by herself, and she hasn’t needed many staff. Rosavern has survived under that drive alone.” Belladona paused. “But like I said, the landscape is always changing, and Dahlia wasn’t able to take notice of that detail. Now, after only a few years, that weakness threatens to end Rosavern.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Camellia has always been a meticulous businesswoman, and her attention to detail has allowed her to identify where the greatest opportunities lie, and the right people to make connections with to further herself in the trade.” Belladona paused. “But she’s often too scared to take those opportunities. She sees all the benefits, but she also sees the risks, and she sees the risks a bit too well. One missed opportunity led to another, and before she knew it, she’s realized that in order to survive in the business, she needs to expand into a trade she almost has no hold or experience in.”

“That’s not-”

“You complement each other,” Belladona said as she set her hands on the counter and leaned towards the other two, who moved back. “I mean this wholeheartedly. You two would make a great pair. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

Dahlia and Camellia stared at Belladona, silent and not moving. After a few moments, Belladona stoop back up. “I’m not asking you two to get along,” she said. “I just want you two to work together.”

Dahlia and Camellia looked at each other, then quickly turned away. Dahlia hung her head and stared at the empty counter. For a while, she didn’t say anything, her fingers quickly tapping the surface one by one. Camellia and Belladona watched her as she pondered silently and waited, though Belladona looked considerably more patient than the former.

“You’re sure this will work?” Dahlia asked.

“No,” Belladona replied.

Dahlia looked up at her and tilted her head.

“No?” she asked again.

Belladona smiled. “No,” she replied again.

“But…?”

“But it’s worth trying, don’t you think?”

Dahlia paused, then looked down again. Her pupils moved back and forth as she thought deeply. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Rosavern ends without a donor…” she said.

“Yes,” Belladona replied.

“Look, I can’t guarantee I’ll succeed with Ameth-”

“I know,” Belladona said. “I know. I took that into account before I even though of all this.”

She opened her eyes. She looked up at Belladona and stared at her intently. The latter leaned back a little, waiting for her response.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Camellia’s eyes widened. She turned to Dahlia. Dahlia also turned to face her, wearing an unusually serious expression as she stared at her, while Belladona still looked patient as she waited.

Camellia hurriedly broke her gaze and set her elbows down on the counter, holding her temples. Her pupils darted across her wares, examining each one with a careful, nervous eye. Although they were colorful and vibrant, especially under the sun, there was a noticeable lack of colorful liquids to complete the versatile look she was going for.

She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, partially blocking her indecisive face from the other two. After a few seconds, she fully covered it with her hands, and dragged them downward, stopping at her mouth. She looked around. Aside from a few people walking leisurely in the roads outside, her surroundings were empty, and silent, pressuring her further to make a decision.

“This can really deal a blow to my coffers if it fails…” she said, closing her eyes.

“But?” Belladona replied.

“But…” Camellia paused, and turned to Belladona. Her eyes opened as she looked up at her. Although Belladona tried to hide it, her earnest expression betrayed her composed posture. Camellia looked unsure for a moment, eyeing Belladona’s features and looking for some hint of mutual hesitation that would reassure her. But she found no excuse.

Her body slumped on the counter. She sighed.

“But I suppose you’re right, Ms. Belladona,” she said. “I truly don’t want to admit it. But I need this.”

Dahlia and Belladona exhaled. The former sounded impatient and slightly annoyed, while the other relieved.

Dahlia rolled her eyes and grunted. “Yeah,” she said, hesitantly, “me too.”

Belladona clapped her hands and made a strikingly cheerful expression. “Alright! The plan is a go,” she said. “Let’s do our best!”

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Camellia said.

Dahlia nodded in agreement. “Yeah…” she replied, wearily. “This had better work.”

\-------------------------

“Woah, is that a feral dagger?” Elena said.

“I... yes. Yes, it is,” Peanut replied wearily.

“It must feel really nice to use it because it’s so light yet it can also easily stun your opponents,” Elena said with a wonderstruck look.

“Yes...” Peanut said, surprised. “Yes, it does. Sorry, how did you know that?”

“I talked to Pearl about daggers in my last visit!”

“Do... you know about nightbane sabers?”

Elena gasped. “No, I don’t! Are they from the Valley of Gold as well?”

“Yes,” Peanut said, even more surprised, yet also seemingly delighted. “Yes, they are. They’re actually a favorite among postknights.”

“Ooh,” Elena said, leaning towards Peanut. “Why is that? What does it do?”

Peanut put the feral dagger he took out back in its holster. “Well, it’s less of a favorite and something more of a legend.”

Elena’s eyes widened. “A legend?”

“There’s only really one or two in Kurestal, and even then, I’ve only held it once. I couldn’t bear to use it again after the first time, so I gave it back to Sir Xad.”

“Sir Xad?”

“Ah, the local blacksmith in Valley of Gold. I bought it from him.”

“Why couldn’t you use it again?”

Well…” Peanut rubbed the back of his neck. “It healed me with magic that felt like it came from the Crystal of Life,” he said, trailing off. “But it was… different. I felt terrified everytime it did.”

Elena gasped. “Was there a spirit inside it or something?”

“Oh, no no,” Peanut stammered. “Nothing like that. Sir Xad actually told me the story behind it.”

“Ooh, story!” Elena ran to her stall and went behind the counter. She propped herself up on it with her arms and beckoned at Peanut to join her. Peanut, confused, jogged towards her and leaned on the counter in front.

“Customers might appear at any minute so I thought it’d be best if we continued our talk here!” Elena said. “And you can also guard the stall while you’re at it!”

“Oh, right,” Peanut said, recalling their hastily-made deal. “I still have to guard your stall.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you and your friend handsomely!”

“Ah…” Peanut scratched his head sheepishly. “Thanks,” he said.

“Well, go on, then, Mr. Peanut! Tell your story now!”

“Ah, yes.” Peanut looked up and crossed his arms. He breathed out and wondered where he should start.

“I’m not sure if you’ve seen this much, but blacksmiths tend to use pieces of the Crystal of Life in their weapons.”

“Ooh, sunblazes!”

“Yes, sunblazes. Rumored pieces of Eolin herself.” Peanut eased himself into the talk. “Their healing effects are very valuable if the blacksmith is skilled enough to utilize it. However, if you aren’t,” he paused, and raised a finger, “you can mishandle and taint them.”

Elena covered her mouth with her hands. “I didn’t know that was possible,” she said, lowering them. “I thought Eolin’s powers would prevent that.”

“Well, there’s no guarantee those legends are true,” Peanut said, chuckling. “And even if they were, Eolin’s powers may not work on the pieces we find because they’re too small.”

“The sunblazes I find are pretty big, though!”

“That’s good.”

“What happened next?”

Peanut continued, “There was a thief that found a sunblaze and didn’t know what to do with it. But that didn’t stop him. He forged a sword with that piece, thinking it would help him in his thefts. And, as anyone would expect, it wasn’t any different than a normal sword.”

Elena giggled. “I wonder if Eolin curses people that do that.”

“This thief was somewhat cursed, actually,” Peanut replied.

Elena looked dumbfounded and leaned forward. “Really?” she said. “By Eolin herself?”

“Oh, no no, I didn’t mean it literally. It was the sword that was cursed instead of him,” he said. “I would say that’s close enough,” he added with a small titter.

“Ooh, okay, got it, got it.”

“After he made the sword, he stole from a dark mage one day, and failed. He managed to escape, but he had to leave the sword behind. Angered, the dark mage tainted the crystal embedded in the sword and made it steal life rather than give it.”

Elena gulped. “Oh, no. Steal…?”

Peanut nodded pensively. “Yes, steal. If the Crystal of Life gives us life in exchange of faith, its tainted version gives life only when blood is drawn.” Peanut paused. “It heals you at the cost of the lives of others.”

“That sounds horrible!”

“Yes. After that, the dark mage sold it and it got passed around until it somehow ended up on Sir Xad’s shop. It really helped me when passing through Caldemount’s denser and more dangerous parts, but I couldn’t in good conscience continue to use it.”

Peanut took out his feral dagger and gave it to Elena. Surprised, she took it carefully and held it as if it was some precious jewel while she examined it.

“It’s why I used a feral dagger back then.”

“It looks beautiful!”

He smiled. “You were right,” he said, making Elena turn to her. “It easily stuns your opponents, so you knock them out before any real damage could be done. I was quite surprised you knew about an obscure weapon like this.”

“I just asked around during my visits to headquarters.” Elena put the dagger down. “The people there are really helpful!”

“Who did you ask?”

“Well, I’ve talked about Pearl already. And I never really asked the name of the others.” Elena held her chin. “Oh! There was this big bearded man I talked to once. He told me his name, but I can’t remember now.”

“A postknight?”

“Nope! He said he was a blacksmith just visiting from Griffondell. He opened up when I told him I was from there, too!”

Peanut perked up. “A blacksmith? From Griffondell?” he said, curling his brows. “Sir Avery?”

“Ooh, yeah! That was his name!”

“That’s strange. What would Sir Avery be doing in headquarters?”

“He told me he was fulfilling a favor his daugher asked of him!”

Peanut curled his brows further. “Asteria? What would she need from headquarters?”

“Oh, you know her, Mr. Peanut?”

“Yes. She’s one of the few friends I made at the Valley of Gold when I was still stationed there.”

“Well, Sir Avery told me his daughter had a Goldin friend that wanted to be a postknight!”

Peanut’s eyes widened. “A Goldin postknight…” he said, surprised.

“It sounds very exciting!”

“It does, yes,” Peanut said in an uncharacteristically upbeat manner. “I’m interested in seeing that play out.”

“Did you meet many Goldins in the Valley of Gold, Mr. Peanut?”

Peanut stiffened, and averted his gaze. “Well…”

Elena tilted her head in confusion. “Mr. Peanut?”

Peanut sighed. “I suppose there’s no point in hiding it,” he said. He paused. “I fought them.”

Elena leaned back. “You… fought them?”

“There was a contingent of Goldins that didn’t support the deal with humans sharing the Valley of Gold. A small group, but a persistent one. They attacked the humans that were there back then, which included me.” Peanut’s shoulders slumped. “Especially me. I was caught up guarding the people they wanted to attack.”

“That sounds awful! Did anyone get hurt badly?”

“Just me, thankfully. Everyone else was fine in the end.”

“Eh? That doesn’t sound good at all!”

Peanut chuckled. “Well, they were pretty strong, after all. They would even use explosives sometimes,” he said. “I’d rather it be me who gets hurt than other people that aren’t trained for situations like those.”

“You should have just used the mistral dagger from Griffondell!” Elena exclaimed, leaning towards Peanut, who was taken aback. She puffed her chest out proudly. “It takes a bit of flitweaves to draw out its healing properties, but it’s incredibly useful! My parents would use it when walking through the highland mountains and they almost always come back with no scratches or wounds.”

“Ah, yes, about that…” Peanut rubbed his neck again. “That’s the thing. I may not look it, but I do appreciate a good challenge. The mistral dagger sort of… made things too easy,” he said. “I left it here with the local blacksmith and picked an illustrious sword before I used a feral dagger.”

Elena laughed out loud. “Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Mr. Peanut!” she said. “I think that’s really cool of you!”

“Ah,” he said sheepishly. “You flatter me too much.”

“No, I really mean it!”

Peanut shrunk further. “Well then, thank you, Ms. Elena,” he said. “It means a lot.”

Elena held out her hand.

“Just call me Elena, Mr. Peanut!” she said.

Peanut moved back slightly at Elena’s outstretched hand and gave it a quizzical look. Seeing this, she held her hand out further, making Peanut lean further back. He looked up at her. Her face remained unchanged, still beaming brightly despite his hesitation. His uncertainty turned to confusion. Then to understanding. He smiled.

“Well, then,” he said, taking Elena’s hand and shaking it, “call me Peanut too, Elena.”

Elena grinned. “Sure thing, Peanut!”

Their hands parted. Peanut took the dagger and put it back on its holster, then propped himself up on the counter.

“You’re very easy to talk to, Elena,” Peanut said.

“You too, Peanut!” Elena replied cheerfully.

The town center grew even louder and busier as more people crowded into its interwoven roads. The noise made it so that the vendors in the middle had to scream to hear each other, and even then, they could barely understand what the other or even themselves were saying. However, at the edge, near the path leading to the open fields, the noise was considerably more manageable, allowing for leisurely conversations among the vendors there, though at the cost of customers visiting them.

“You’re actually the first person I’ve talked to like this,” Elena said.

Peanut raised his brows. “Really? I thought your friendliness would surely attract many people.”

“It does, but they can’t keep up with my energy,” Elena said, rubbing her neck.

“Ah.” Peanut glanced sideways. “Well, it certainly took a bit of time to get used to your personality,” he said bluntly, then looked back at Elena with an assuring face. “But I loved our conversation. I had a great time. It feels nice to have someone as interested as you in what you love.”

“Aww!” Elena clasped her mouth timidly. “Now you’re the one doing the flattering, Peanut!”

Peanut laughed. “I suppose.”

A woman walked up to them and scanned Elena’s wares.

“Ah! A customer,” Elena said.

Peanut looked behind her and saw the crowd that had amassed in the middle of the town center were slowly moving into the deeper parts of the market. Small groups of people were already walking to the edges, visiting the stalls there. The vendors that were previously just lazing around immediately jumped up and hurriedly tidied their spots, sweeping the floor, reorganizing their goods, and making themselves look presentable as people stopped near them. One of those groups turned to Elena’s direction and gradually grew closer as it paced leisurely towards them.

“I’ll go behind your stall now,” Peanut said, waving at Elena. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

“Happy guarding!” Elena replied, waving back. She turned to her customer and beamed brightly. “What can I get you, ma’am?” she told her.

Peanut leaned on the wooden wall enclosing Elena’s stall and crossed his arms. His posture relaxed as he looked around, admiring the wilderness just next to the bustling market behind him. He eyed several puffbits hopping around in the horizon, on the path he and Dahlia used when they went through Puff Pasture, but soon let them go since none of them seemed interested in hopping closer. His attention turned to Elena.

Though Peanut said as much, he could still glimpse a sliver of her from behind, through the rectangular holes in the wall he’s leaning on. He assumed those were there to keep the fruits from spoiling quickly, since the stall was small enough that they had to be bunched to fit into a tight space.

Elena took a few grapefruits from the bottom shelf and two bananas from the middle, then took a stool and used it to get a few more apples from the top. She stepped down and put the fruits in a paper bag, giving it to the woman.

“Thank you for your business, ma’am!” she said.

The woman lowered her head and went on her way.

Soon, the group that was walking towards them earlier arrived, along with other people that had finished visiting the nearby stalls. A few of them pointed beyond, into Puff Pasture, and took notice of the puffbits scattered around the area. Everyone else looked as well, and some stopped in their tracks. Most of them murmured among each other anxiously, while the ones that stopped turned to go back. The ones that chose to keep going did so warily, sneaking frequent glances at the forest, and checking to see if anyone else is stopping. Elena looked back as well, and saw the pink, rabbit-like animals hopping furiously through the holes. She smiled and turned back.

“Welcome!” Elena said loudly, catching the attention of the people around. “What can I get you guys?”

They stared at her and stayed in their place, still surprised and confused. After a short while, a little girl holding a brown basket in her right arm walked up in front.

“C-can I get five apples, please?” the girl managed to say, putting the basket on the counter.

“Sure thing!” Elena told her, then looked at the others. “Don’t worry, we have someone guarding us from those puffbits!” she said.

Peanut stiffened and looked back. Elena was looking at her expectantly through the wall. He looked at her, then at the group of people trying to look behind her. He sighed. He peeked around the corner hesitantly, then showed himself, waving shyly.

“Hi…” he said, turning the heads of everyone there.

They immediately murmured among each other again, this time sneaking glances at Peanut. Through the noise, he could hear people say his name in disbelief as they pointed, asking if it really was him. Some offered answers with the same disbelief as those who asked, earning frustrated responses from the latter for sounding unsure.

Elena clapped as loud as she could and drowned out the noise from the crowd, interrupting their gossips. “Alright guys, you’re making our guard uncomfortable!” she said, making them turn to her. She pointed to her fruits. “Why don’t you buy something instead?”

They stared at her for a few moments. Then, one by one, they scattered across the stalls nearby, until the crowd started to move again.

Elena turned to Peanut. She spoke with a whisper, “Sorry for that, Peanut! I drew unwanted attention on you. I thought that was the best way to comfort them!”

Peanut held his hands out in front of him. “Ah, no, the attention is fine,” he said. “Saying someone’s guarding them was the best way to go about it.”

Elena raised her thumb at him. “Tell me when it’s not fine anymore!” she said and turned to her customers.

Most of the people gathered at Elena’s stall, hearing that the supposed guard was standing there. The ones that moved to the other ones managed to see Peanut behind it, who waved at everyone that passed him sheepishly. He could see some girls and boys blushing as they made eye contact with him, hurriedly averting their gazes. He sighed for the second time.

“Not again…” he said.

“I saw that, Peanut!” Elena said, catching Peanut’s attention. She laughed out loud as she put various fruits in paper bags, earning confused stares from the people around her, which she paid no mind.

“This happens often, huh?” she asked, smirking.

“Well…”

“You absolute heartthrob!”

Peanut hid his face in embarrassment, although no one could see him now. “I really don’t know what they see in me,” he said wearily.

Elena giggled. “Soft-spoken types have their charm, you know!”

Peanut shrunk even further. “Get back to your work, Elena,” he said sternly.

“Sure thing!” Elena replied as she giggled again.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Elena turned to the man asking her. “Was that really Peanut?”

Elena lowered her brows. “Hm? Yep! It’s him!”

The man’s eyes widened, and the crowd began gossiping again. Elena cocked her head in confusion. “Is Peanut a big deal around here?” she asked.

“Of course he is!” the man replied excitedly, catching Elena off-guard. “His efforts as a postknight are admired by many around Kurestal!”

Elena put her hand on her mouth. “Oh my…”

“I-is he really here, ma’am?” a little boy asked, blushing visibly.

Elena smiled. “Yep!” she replied. “But he doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. We need him to guard us properly, after all!”

The little boy nodded, and the crowd settled down again upon hearing that. “Now,” Elena said, “what can I get for all of you?”

Peanut watched Elena as she attended to her customers. She moved efficiently, handling the orders of several people at once, all with a lively smile that she sustained despite the palpable stress even Peanut could feel from working like that. Different voices stacked together in a disorganized and dissonant manner, becoming nigh undiscernible as a wall of noise. To make matters worse, even more people were cutting in from the back, making the line more chaotic than it should be. Nonetheless, Elena attended to them all calmly, asking them to organize themselves to make things easier for everyone.

Peanut usually never saw this kind of situation pan out well, but Elena made it all work out. Her lively and bouncy demeanor, her straightforward personality, and her loud voice somehow makes people listen to her and willingly follow her, as her customers are doing right now. People get caught up in her rhythm before they know it. He smiled. That exact thing happened to him just recently.

He hadn’t seen anyone with as much wanton vigor as her, much less someone who displayed it unapologetically. Her bottomless energy was a direct contrast to his reserved personality, but he liked that distinction. The two of them were the kind of opposites that didn’t clash. It definitely took some time to get used to her, but her personality ended up being a pleasant presence around him, and her intense interest in postknights gave him incentive to have conversations he rarely gets that engaged in like he did a short while ago. He surprised even himself.

“I misjudged you, Elena.”

Elena paused. She turned to Peanut. “Hm? Sorry, what do you mean, Peanut?” she asked.

Peanut smiled again and looked at her intently. “You’ll make a great postknight,” he said.

Elena’s eyes widened. She dropped the paper bags she was holding, and covered her mouth with her hands. “You really mean it?” she asked again.

Peanut nodded, beaming at her softly. “Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, I do.”

\-------------------------

The sun set over Caldemount amidst the languid pacing of vendors and customers alike, painting the sky in a warm, orange hue. Most of the former were already closing up, sweeping their areas and wiping their counters, while some were exchanging coins with their fellow vendors, either for change or to get rid of their excess coins. A few were selling their leftover wares to the people still walking around the town center, offering discounts on top of the already large ones they offered earlier for the Golden Week. It was somewhat effective, attracting mostly impulse buyers and opportunistic ones who waited for the day to end before going to the market. The majority of the people there already had everything they wanted, however, so it was mostly a sordid game of catch.

Camellia stepped on a chair and pulled the metal blinds down from over her counter, covering the goods inside. She stepped down, went out of her stall, then locked the doors.

“Let’s go,” she said, carrying only a pink chest with a heart-shaped lock, and a small copper key, which she put inside one of her dress’ many pockets.

“You’re taking that?” Dahlia asked, pointing at the chest.

“I’m depositing these in the local bank early next morning. I won’t have time beyond that tomorrow,” Camellia replied.

“Ah, right,” Belladona said. “Tomorrow’s the busiest day of the Golden Week.”

“Yes. Busy enough that I’ll be overwhelmed even in this area. I won’t have time to take a break.”

The three started walking, scaring away raccoons and moles that hid behind trash cans or inside holes they dug on the ground.

“Where’s your apprentice?” Belladona asked. “Didn’t you have one?”

“Ah, she had to go back home for a while. Family reasons.”

“Oh, dear. I hope it isn’t serious,” Belladona replied.

“Ah.” Camellia waved her hands dismissively. “Don’t worry. It’s not.”

“I hope you’re treating her well."

Camellia smiled. “I wouldn’t accept an apprentice if I wasn’t. I may be a businesswoman, but I’ve kept my heart.”

“Yeah, go pat yourself in the back,” Dahlia snarked at Camellia.

“I can assure you this isn’t some self-indulgent spiel. You should try hiring one, you know. They can really help.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes. “We already had all that business talk earlier. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Alright,” Camellia said. “How’d you get here on such short notice? There aren’t any roads short enough that could take you here quickly.”

“I went through Puff Pasture.”

Belladona and Camellia’s eyes widened. “Huh?” they said at the same time.

“Alone?” Belladona added.

“What? No way. Even I can’t handle that. Peanut was with me.”

Belladona’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, right. You mentioned him earlier.”

“Why isn’t he with you then?” Camellia asked.

Dahlia chuckled nervously. “Heh, yeah, about that.”

Camellia covered her mouth with both her hands, and muttered fearfully, “Oh dear Eolin, did you leave him in Puff Pasture-”

Dahlia moved aback and shook her head, her hands waving back and forth. “No! No, of course not! I’m not a monster! I just… left him with someone else, I guess.”

“Why do you still sound guilty.”

“Ugh! I left her with some annoying girl near Puff Pasture, alright?” Dahlia said. “Green hair, sells vegetables. I talked with her for just a few minutes and I already felt exhausted. What more from someone like Peanut?”

“Can’t say I know her. That description’s too vague.”

“Ah, she said her name’s Elena.”

Camellia stroked her chin and pondered for a few more moments before lowering her hand. “No, the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Belladona ruffled Camellia’s hair. “I’m surprised there’s someone you don’t know around here.”

Camellia pushed Belladona’s hand away. “Stop that!” she said.

Belladona laughed as she lowered her hand.

“Come now, Ms. Belladona. I may be meticulous with details, but I’m not one to memorize every single merchant here. Caldemount’s a large place.”

“Well, you’ve certainly memorized enough to convince me you do. Remember Jasper?”

“Oh, dear. Please don’t remind me.”

Dahlia tilted her head. “Huh? Who’s Jasper?”

Belladona replied, “Some hot-blooded kid that picked a fight with a merchant last Golden Week. He wasn’t given enough change and it escalated from there.”

“What happened next?”

Belladona smiled and spoke with a dramatic voice, “Well, valiant Camellia here-”

Camellia lowered her eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”

“-was having a bad day, and was irritated enough at Jasper that she approached him. Then, she bravely fought him off! It was such a show!”

Dahlia’s eyes widened. “I refuse to believe you. How?”

“She challenged him to name as many merchants in the fair back then as he can. If he could name more than Camellia, he could take the item for free.”

“Ah, is that it,” Dahlia said, then looked confused again. “Wait, huh? Why? That worked?”

“I knew it would,” Camellia replied. “He was a simpleton that only wanted to win through and through.”

“Jasper named three and Camellia named fifty-three. Poor kid left the scene in shame!” Belladona raised her finger. “Ah, but not before swearing vengeance against Camellia.”

“Vengeance…?” Dahlia asked, trailing off.

Camellia replied monotonously, “He visited my stall sixty-eight times in the entirety of the Golden Week, and kept asking me for a rematch.”

Dahlia snickered. “And? Did he ever win?”

“No, not once.”

“Darn, you couldn’t even give him a chance.”

“Of course not. After the third visit, I figured I could take advantage of him and had him buy something from me every time he lost.”

“Ah,” Dahlia said. “The heart of a businesswoman at work.”

Camellia scoffed. “Oh, please. It was hardly any harm to him. He kept buying my wares even when he didn’t lose the bets. He especially loved buying cooking ingredients.”

“Oh, he loves cooking, huh.”

“No. he’s a terrible cook. He told me himself.”

“Huh?”

“He said it was for practice.”

“Wait,” Dahlia said, looking at the two, “so was the house that was always smoking last year his?”

Belladona lowered her brows. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“Last year, there was a house that always had smoke coming out of it, and the smoke would blow into Rosavern every day. I had to buy so many screen potions from Silas and cover Rosavern for the whole week.”

“I heard of that,” Belladona said. “But why would that be Jasper?”

“Because it smelled like very, very burnt food.”

“Oh,” Belladona replied.

“That was most likely him, yes,” Camellia said. “I heard of complaints like that from nearby merchants last year, and I thought it might have been him.”

“If you thought that was him, why did you keep selling him stuff?” Dahlia asked.

“His parents would sometimes accompany him. Apparently, they were teaching him that week. So,” Camellia said, “either his parents are also horrible cooks, or he’s just so bad at it he burned everything he touched regardless.”

“Mmm,” Dahlia replied. “You say that, but you were pretty damn glad you were selling so much, weren’t you?” she said.

Camellia smiled. “Of course I was. Why would I not be? Business is business. I’ve kept my heart, but I’m still a businesswoman.”

“I don’t think you have much of a heart as you think.”

“No, I believe that’s just you being clueless about business.”

“What did you say?!”

“If you were presented with the same opportunity, you wouldn’t think to seize it like I did, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would!” Dahlia exclaimed. She crossed her arms. “This Jasper kid seems to be a good drinker. He’d have lots of fun in Rosavern.”

“I doubt it. He’d trash the place the moment he gets drunk.”

“You underestimate my skills, Camellia,” Dahlia replied smugly, earning an annoyed glare from the latter. “I’ve dealt with some of the rowdiest drinkers of Caldemount. A kid like that is nothing.”

“Really?” Camellia said skeptically. “Who is one of these ‘rowdiest’ drinkers?”

“Belladona.”

“Ah.”

“Huh?” Belladona suddenly said.

“Look, I like you, Belladona,” Dahlia said, “but if it weren’t for your inhuman recovery rate, you’d have destroyed my counter a long time ago.”

Camellia nodded approvingly.

“Come on, I’m not that bad!” Belladona hurriedly replied. “Silas never complained when he drinks with me, and he’s one of my main drinking buddies.”

“Uh, yes, he does. He’s one of the main complainants. You just don’t remember since you’re always drunk when he complains. I can understand considering he has to take you home.”

“Wait,” Camellia said. “Ms. Belladona recovers quickly, doesn’t she? Wouldn’t she be sober by then?”

“Yeah, but sometimes those two drink until midnight when they’ve had a very busy day. Silas ends up being the only one conscious enough to take the both of them home by the time I have to close.”

“Ah.”

“Seriously?” Belladona said wearily.

“It’s true, unfortunately.” Dahlia grinned. “Some of your admirers have even seen you in that state.”

“Ah, that.” Belladona waved her hands dismissively. “I don’t care for admirers, so that doesn’t really matter to me.”

“Ooh, you’re the unreachable type. I see, I see.”

Belladona rolled her eyes. “I haven’t done too much damage to your counter, right? I’ll have to fix that tomorrow, too.”

“Not too much,” Dahlia replied. “Though there’s a bunch of nails coming off at one end now. It’s where you sometimes sit.”

Belladona heaved a long sigh. “Yeah, got it.”

“Hey, if it’s any consolation, you and Silas are one of my best patrons.” Dahlia grinned and raised her thumb up. “Good for business.”

“Spoken like a true businesswoman,” Camellia said sardonically.

“Shut up.”

“Honestly, Ms. Belladona, how’d you even get drunk at my stall earlier?” Camellia asked. “The closest stall serving alcoholic drinks was a ways away from mine.”

“Oh, hah,” Belladona said sheepishly. “I may have bought too many bottles from that stall on the way to yours. I got drunk then.”

“I figured.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Dahlia.” Belladona turned to Dahlia. “You haven’t set up a stall for Rosavern since you took it over from your dad.”

“They hold it too far from Rosavern nowadays. I can’t keep up with that kind of distance. I set up a stall when I first managed it, but none of the workers I hired were enough to help me manage one.”

“Oh, well, that’s a shame. A lot of your competitors that set something up here are beating you now.”

Dahlia sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“I told you,” Camellia said. “You need to at least hire someone. Perhaps one or two. They can truly help.”

“I already told you they weren’t of any help to me. I tried hiring workers for Rosavern even after that, but none of them could handle the workload.”

Camellia raised a brow. “And how long did you keep them for?”

“Two days.”

Camellia’s eyes sank. “Dahlia.”

“What? If I kept them around for longer, they would have cost me more funds. Better to cut them off before then. I trust myself far more anyway.”

Belladona put her palm on her face. “Dahlia, that’s way too short. No one would be able to adapt to their work for just that long.”

“No wonder none of them have been of much help to you,” Camellia added. “Of course you can’t set up a stall here either.”

“Oh, come on, we’re talking about business again! You’re no different yourself! You were managing your stall all alone.”

“That’s because it was a slow day today, thank you very much,” Camellia replied.

“Yeah, and it’s the busiest day tomorrow.”

“I have hired hands to help me tomorrow.”

Dahlia couldn’t say anything to that. She simply kept walking, visibly frustrated.

“Actually, you know what. I’ll strike you a deal,” Camellia said, turning to Dahlia. “I’ll only give you financial help if you hire at least three workers.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. At least.”

“This wasn’t part of our deal earlier!”

“This is a new deal.”

“Wha-” Dahlia turned to Belladona, looking to her for disapproval.

“Well…” Belladona said, holding her chin. She looked at Dahlia. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with it? She’s doing things on her own!”

“It’s inevitable, Dahlia. You’re going to have to hire people if you want Rosavern to succeed in the long run anyway.” Belladona pointed to Camellia. “And you’re dealing with an expert at finances here.” Camellia smiled proudly.

“The problem isn’t the costs,” Camellia said. “It’s your way of managing Rosavern.”

Dahlia curled her face in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It means you work too much in your business, not on it.”

“…What does that mean?”

“Ugh.” Camellia’s body slumped. “It means you need to stop playing the waiter and let others take that over for you.”

“But I keep telling you, I can do it on my own.”

“You need to stop so you can focus on Rosavern’s other needs. Finances, general needs, miscellaneous things, maintenance of your establishment. There’s so many.”

“I can handle those too!”

“You said yourself your establishment is already falling apart.”

“I-I’m already taking care of that.”

“And you’re still losing profits in the long run.”

“No, I’m not!”

“What did your father do when he managed Rosavern?”

“…Hired other people.”

“See?”

“But that’s not my way of doing things!”

Camellia lowered her eyes as she looked at Dahlia. “You realize this is my way of helping you.”

“Well, I don’t need that kind of help. I know what I’m doing.”

Camellia shook her head. “No. Evidently not, no.”

“I’ll have to agree with her, Dahlia,” Belladona said.

Camellia shrugged. “The deal’s already up. No workers, no money,” she said. “Just consider this my first step in fulfilling my end of our earlier deal.”

Dahlia grunted. “Whatever. I’m not hiring other people until you can convince me.”

Camellia chuckled mischievously. “Oh, is that a challenge?”

Dahlia turned to Camellia and gave her a confused look. “Huh?”

Camellia smiled, looking satisfied with herself. “Alright, I can work with that. Meet me at my stall in the afternoon tomorrow.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“We’ll be looking for your workers, of course.”

Belladona laughed. “Ooh, making use of your connections. I see.”

“Well? Do you agree?” Camellia asked. “I’m already offering to help you myself. It’s quite a good deal if you ask me.”

Dahlia’s face turned annoyed, and hesitant to speak. She grit her teeth and grunted.

“What are you getting out of this?”

“Your assurance that you’ll do your best to convince Amethyst.”

Dahlia paused. She raised a finger and pointed at Camellia. “Ugh, fine! But only because you offered to help me!” she said.

“Mmm, sure, sure.”

“Oh, I think I see Peanut,” Belladona said.

Dahlia and Camellia’s attention snapped ahead. They raised their head looking for Peanut. However, since they weren’t as tall as Belladona, they couldn’t see as much as her.

“Where is he, Ms. Belladona?” Camellia asked.

Dahlia covered her mouth with both her hands. “Oh dear Eolin, is he passed out? Is that girl still talking?”

“No, I think…” Belladona paused as she raised her head to take a good look. “I think he’s chatting with her quite cheerfully.”

Dahlia lowered her brows. “Huh?”

“Oh, my,” Camellia said.

“Oh wow, I haven’t seen Peanut talk that cheerfully before,” Belladona remarked. "It’s quite the sight.”

After a few more moments, the three finally got close enough to Peanut that Dahlia and Camellia could also see him. Like what Belladona said, Peanut had a big smile as she chatted with Elena in front of her stall. Elena was holding two paper bags filled with fruits and vegetables while Peanut was holding the feral dagger resting inside his belt’s holster.

“Woah,” Dahlia said.

“They look like a couple from a sappy romance story, honestly,” Camellia added.

Belladona scoffed. “Oh, please. Peanut has far, far more admirers than me, and he has let down every single one of them. Believe me, he’s not interested in her.”

His clothes were slightly dirty and marred with a few scratches, and as the three got closer, they could also see him holding pink balls of fur in his other hand. Camellia looked confused, and looked around. Her face turned to the left and her eyes widened as she looked at the trail leading to Puff Pasture beside the stall.

She pointed at the trail. “Are those… puffbits?”

Dahlia and Belladona looked at the direction Camellia was pointing at. Their eyes widened as well.

At the end of the trail lay a pile of unconscious puffbits, and even one giant puffort at their back. Most of them didn’t seem to have their fluffy tails, although the rest, including the puffort, seemed to have theirs intact.

Belladona pointed at them, confused. “Did Peanut do that?”

Dahlia sighed. “Yep. He did.”

“You sound as if you were involved in this,” Belladona said..

“Yeah, I do. I had to leave him with Elena because she wanted to hire us.”

“Hire you?” Camellia asked.

“We told her we went through Puff Pasture, and she wanted us to guard her stall from puffbits for a price. Peanut did just that, of course, as he always does.”

The three got close enough that Peanut could hear their footsteps. He looked towards their direction, and smiled. He waved at them.

“Hi, guys,” he said.

They all waved back at him. Belladona ran over to Peanut and shook his hand.

“Hey there, Peanut! Long time no see!” she said.

Camellia and Dahlia stopped next to Belladona.

Camellia held the ends of her skirt and did a curtsy bow. “Likewise. It’s good to see you again, Peanut.”

“It’s good to see you guys again as well.” He turned to Dahlia. “Hey, Dahlia,” he said, waving cheerfully at her.

“He-hey,” Dahlia replied, waving back hesitantly. “How was the guarding job?”

“It was quite fun, actually. I also managed to get some much needed tuft tails. I couldn’t find these where I’m stationed.”

“Where are you stationed now?” Belladona asked.

Elena giggled. “That’s a secret! For now, at least!” she exclaimed, catching the attention of the other three girls.

“What were you two talking about before we got here?” Belladona asked.

“We were discussing our favorite weapons!” Peanut said enthusiastically, in his own way. “Mine has always been the feral dagger, while Elena’s is the mistral dagger.”

“Oh, she knows about that kind of stuff?” Dahlia asked.

“Enough for a lengthy conversation,” Peanut said, chuckling. “Ah, speaking of which, you guys haven’t met yet. Elena, meet Camellia and Belladona,” Peanut said, pointing to the two, who waved at Elena.

“Nice to meet you, Elena,” Belladona said.

“Pleasure to meet you, Elena,” Camellia said with a bow.

Elena waved back at them. “It’s nice to see you guys as well!”

“You’ve already met Dahlia,” Peanut added, pointing to Dahlia.

“Yeah, we have! Nice to see you again, Ms. Dahlia!” Elena shook Dahlia’s hand vigorously again, catching her off-guard in much the same way she was when Elena and her previously met.

“Y-yes, it’s nice to see you too. You can let go now.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry!” Elena said.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh, I’ll get Peanut’s payment and yours now!”

Dahlia shook her hands in front of her. “Ah, no, no, it’s fine. Give it all to Peanut. He did all the work.”

“Sure!” Elena replied as she ran to the counter.

“Consider this my way of making it up to you,” Dahlia said, winking at Peanut.

“Heh, thanks,” Peanut said. “I would usually deny this, but I do need the money for now.”

“Is it expensive where you’re stationed?” Belladona asked and smirked. “And what’s with this secrecy around it?”

“Yes, it is quite expensive, unfortunately. As for keeping it secret, I’d like to keep my mouth shut until my superiors explicitly tell me I can tell others.”

“Ooh, I see, I see,” Belladona replied.

“How long are you going to stay here for?” Camellia asked. “We have a lot to catch up on!”

“One more week, then I have to leave. My break would be over by then.”

“I’ll be sure to fix your weapons up as quickly as I can!” Belladona said.

“Ah, yes, thank you.”

“So…” Dahlia fidgeted in her spot. “How was the time with Elena? I hope it wasn’t too difficult dealing with her.”

“Oh, not at all! She was actually a lot of fun to talk to!”

Belladona smiled. “Heh, yeah. You definitely looked like you were having fun. I haven’t seen that side of you before.”

“Ah, yes. Me, too. I surprised even myself,” Peanut said, scratching his head sheepishly.

Dahlia breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Eolin. I thought I had to do you favors for a month just to make it up to you or something.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine. We ended up having a lot in common, so we just hit it off,” Peanut said. “You were actually quite accurate, Dahlia. She would definitely make a good postknight.”

Camellia raised her brows. “She wants to be a postknight?”

“She does! I’m excited to see how she’ll do.”

“Man, I wasn’t expecting you two to hit it off that much. Well, I’m not one to complain, either way. It all works out.” Dahlia said.

“Ah! Finally found it!”

The four of them looked at Elena as she ran towards them, holding a small cloth pouch, closed by a thin, brown rope. She stopped beside them, and handed it over to Peanut. He opened the pouch, and looked inside. He smiled, looking satisfied, and closed it again before putting it in his pocket.

“This will do. Thanks, Elena,” he said.

“Sure thing, Peanut!” Elena replied.

“Wow, first name basis, too,” Dahlia remarked.

“Alright, this is my stop, guys. Silas should be waiting for me at the crossroads now.” Belladona waved back at them as she went off. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

The four of them waved back at Belladona.

“You can go with your friends, too, Peanut! I can clean up the stall from here myself.”

“And the puffbits?” Peanut asked.

“I’ll let them loose before I go.”

Peanut nodded at Elena. “I’ll see you again in two days.”

“Sure thing!”

Elena ran off to her stall and closed the metal blinds over its counter as the other three walked away.

“Where’s your stop, guys?” Peanut asked, turning to the both of them.

“Mine’s Rosavern, of course,” Dahlia replied.

“How about you, Camellia? Are you staying at your father’s tonight?” Peanut asked.

“No, my house is closer to the town center, so I’ll sleep there,” Camellia replied.

“I see. I’m still yet to find a place to stay in. I did kind of get sidetracked a bit.”

Dahlia perked up. “Then stay at Rosavern! I have lots of rooms left.”

“You realize Rosavern is quite far from here?” Camellia said. “You had to go through Puff Pasture just to get here quickly.”

“We can take a stagecoach!” Dahlia exclaimed.

Peanut raised his thumb at Dahlia. “Sure, Dahlia,” he said. He turned to Camellia. “It’s fine, Camellia. We can just take a stagecoach. And I want to stay at Rosavern, too.”

Camellia raised her hands. “Well, if you say so.”

Dahlia held her fist up and pulled it down. “Alright!”

“So, what’s been happening with you two these days?” Peanut said. “Did Dahlia manage to tell Belladona what she needed to tell her?”

“Yep. Belladona’s going to fix Rosavern up tomorrow. She’ll probably finish it that day, too.” Dahlia paused, then looked at Camellia. “As for the two of us, well…”

“Belladona had Dahlia and I agree to a deal,” Camellia replied.

“Oh?” Peanut gave them a curious look. “What kind of deal?”

“Well, to put it simply,” Dahlia said, “it involves seducing a noble and we had to agree to it because both of our businesses are failing.”

Peanut looked confused. “Seducing a noble?”

“Ah,” Camellia interjected. “Another one of Dahlia’s theatrics. Pay it no mind.”

Dahlia made a mocking face at Camellia, which the latter ignored.

“I heard Dahlia’s is failing, but Camellia’s too?” Peanut asked with a worried tone.

“I can survive in this business for far longer than Dahlia with my skills. Don’t worry, Peanut.” Camellia gave Peanut a reassuring smile, while Dahlia glared at her. “The problem is that I need to expand my reach further than it already has right now if I were to survive indefinitely.”

“Oh, dear. I see,” Peanut replied. “You did tell me you didn’t have many connections in the potion trade a while back.”

“Yes, it’s exactly that. Potions are the only trade I haven’t dabbled much in, and it’s time I do.”

“Well? What’s the deal?”

“I give Rosavern financial support for as long as it needs to, while Dahlia sweet-talks a noble named Amethyst when she stays at Rosavern into giving hints of where to find those connections.”

“It’s a weird plan on paper, but I trust Belladona enough to make it work, I guess,” Dahlia added.

“Amethyst, you say?” Peanut said. “I’ve met her, actually.”

Dahlia and Camellia looked at each other, then back to Peanut. “What? Where?” they said together.

“I believe it was a year ago at the Golden Week. I came across her in the streets, talking to other people about the house that always had smoke coming out of it then. She recognized me, and we just talked throughout the day at the town center.”

“That kid again...” Camellia said.

“Hm?” Peanut said, turning to Camellia.

“I’ll tell you the story some other time,” she replied.

“Wow, do you just make friends with everyone you meet?” Dahlia asked.

“Ah,” Peanut said sheepishly. “I suppose most of them, yes. My reputation definitely helps.”

“Well? What more can you tell us about her? What does she like? What doesn’t she like? What kind of person is she to talk to? Does she actually know someone that can help me?” Camellia asked, firing at Peanut with a rapid series of questions.

“One question at a time, Camellia,” Peanut said, amused. He looked up and pondered deeply. “We talked about various topics, along with our likes and dislikes, but most of them won’t exactly be of any help to you both. She’s a very eloquent speaker, though. It was hard to keep up with her sometimes.”

“Oh, dear,” Camellia said.

“Hey, I can already tell you’re thinking of something rude,” Dahlia said. “Trust me, I can handle nobles like her.”

“Our conversation turned to her family and their connections in the merchant business, but she was quite tight-lipped on that, unfortunately. I can understand her, though.”

Camellia sighed. “Ah, yes, I figured.”

“She did say she knew of many people, though, yes.”

Camellia gasped. “That’s good enough! Dahlia just has to actually do a good job, and we’re set!”

“Hey, I told you to trust me, damn it! You’re talking to the manager of Rosavern.” Dahlia flipped her hair and smiled proudly. “I can make even the most tight-lipped of people talk.”

Peanut chuckled while Camellia rolled her eyes. “If you don’t deliver on that day, you can say goodbye to your funds, and to Rosavern,” she said.

“Oh, please. I can manage Rosavern even without your funds.”

“I’m sure its gaping hole in front can agree.”

“Belladona is going to fix that!”

Peanut lowered his brows. “Sorry, gaping hole?”

Dahlia turned to Peanut nervously.

“You told me it was only still falling apart,” he said.

“Ugh!” Dahlia said, pointing at Camellia. “You and your big mouth.”

Camellia ran two fingers in front of her mouth as if she was closing a zipper.

Dahlia sighed. “Yes, gaping hole.”

“Oh, dear,” Peanut said.

“Yes, it’s that bad.”

“Belladona’s going to fix it though, right?”

“She will, don’t worry. We all know she’s trustworthy when it comes to her expertise.”

Peanut nodded.

“Don’t be too conscious of Amethyst’s status,” he said. “I wouldn’t have guessed she was a noble if she hadn’t told me.”

“Got it.”

“How long do you guys have until she gets here?”

“I… honestly don’t know. Belladona never told us that,” Dahlia replied.

“It can’t be any day within this week,” Camellia said. “Her family wouldn’t risk missing the Golden Week in the town they’re visiting.”

“It’s strange they wouldn’t choose to open a stall at Caldemount, though,” Peanut said. “It’s the capital of Kurestal, and they already live here anyway. Why choose some other smaller place?”

“Some merchants choose to strengthen their connections during the Golden Week instead of celebrating it. Most of us gather in places like these where we’re easy to find,” Camellia said. “My guess is they’re doing just that in, uh…” She thought to herself for a bit. “Violetfair?”

“Oh, that’s quite close to Griffondell,” Peanut said.

“Violetfair? What are they doing in Violetfair?” Dahlia asked.

“I hear a certain spice trader arrived there,” Camellia said. “She made the rounds in Ameranne, and for some reason, chose to visit Violetfair this week.”

“So, assuming her family leaves as soon as the Golden Week ends. That gives us…” Dahlia paused. “Six days from now?”

Camellia counted down with her fingers. “Four more days before the Golden Week ends, two days to get from Violetfair to Caldemount through a carriage, give or take half a day. That sounds about right.”

“You’ll be leaving the day after that, right, Peanut?” Dahlia said.

“Yes, but I think I’ll visit Rosavern one last time before I go,” Peanut replied, then chuckled. “I wanna see how it goes for you, and I’d like to meet her one more time.”

“Oh, just you two watch. I’ll have her dancing at the tip of her shoes before the sun sets,” Dahlia said, making Peanut laugh softly and Camellia groan in annoyance.”

“Ah, I believe this is my stop,” Camellia said. She pointed to a road up ahead that split into three more. A flickering lamppost stood beside it on the sidewalk. “The path to the right leads to my house,” she explained.

Peanut waved at Camellia. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“I hope I see you tomorrow as well, Peanut.” She turned to Dahlia, and glared at her. “Don’t you dare be late tomorrow.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Camellia waved back at Peanut, and ran to the right road, holding her skirt up.

“We should get to the stagecoach stop in about an hour if I remember correctly,” Peanut said.

“Ah, no, the stop has switched places a few months after you left. It’s a lot closer here now,” Dahlia replied.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, they wanted it to be closer to the town center since more people live here.”

“That’s nice. I was worried it would be too dark before we got there.”

“Oh darn, you’re right. I forgot to bring a flashlight.”

“Yeah, me too.” Peanut looked around him as he walked. “A lot has changed here, huh? There seem to be more houses now.”

“Yeah, times are changing quickly now, I suppose. It’s hard to catch up even if you have to.”

“I’ve been seeing the same things outside Kurestal as well. Even Helix is starting to gain a sizable population, and that’s always been known as the barren outskirts of Kurestal.”

Dahlia lightly jabbed Peanut’s side with her elbow. “Wow, look at you, travelling all around Prism. You’ve become quite the hotshot yourself.”

“Ah, don’t think too much of it. I haven’t been to the farther countries yet,” Peanut replied. “My job for now is still relatively close to home.”

“Caldemount’s becoming a strange place to me, to be honest. It doesn’t look obvious when you’re in the middle of these houses, but…” Dahlia reached her hand upward for a few moments, then brought it down. “Sometimes, I get the feeling it just changes instantly when I’m not looking.”

“I’ve noticed it’s gotten livelier myself.”

“Yeah, busier. The people move faster and the roads move slower.”

“Have the people here changed as well?”

“I wanna say no,” Dahlia said with a small a laugh. “But I’m noticing them change slowly as well. When I look back at it after a few more years, I’m sure it’ll seem more obvious by then.”

“If I were to see my hometown change like this, I think I’d be able to accept it, but I’ll take it pretty badly at first,” Peanut said. “And it’s likely not my place to say, but I would feel the same even if I knew deep inside it was for the better. It’s just a scary thing to see unfold.”

Dahlia nodded. “But it’s also exciting, I suppose. So many opportunities opening left and right,” she said. “Or maybe that’s just Caldemount speaking.”

“Caldemount speaking?”

“You know,” Dahlia said wryly. “I say it’s a good thing, but maybe it’s just me going with this city’s flow.”

“Well, you’ve lived here all your life, so I don’t blame you if you get swept by its flow.” Peanut smiled at Dahlia. “And neither should you.”

Dahlia shrunk at Peanut’s reassuring expression, but eventually accepted it. “Yeah, thanks,” she said. “But it’s still hard not to feel strange about it. Caldemount changes too quickly to just… digest, I guess.”

“And how about you?”

Dahlia turned to Peanut. “Hm? What about me?”

“How much have you changed yourself?” Peanut asked, his smile intact.

Dahlia looked down. “Well…” She thought of herself as she walked, her pace slowing slightly. “I think I’ve mostly stayed the same. In many ways, I’ve changed as well. But I guess when I’m still thinking of things like this, I haven’t really changed all that much.”

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“I mean-” Dahlia pointed at the houses around her. “Look at all these. Half of these houses didn’t look like this three years ago. The other half didn’t even exist.”

Her hand stopped at a purple house that was half-broken. Its green roof had already fallen and taken down a wall with it. She recognized it as the house of an elderly couple that sold pastries before they died. She lowered her hand.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words.”

“You can try. There’s no shame in that.”

Dahlia chose her words carefully. She felt them rise from her as if they were the most obvious thing in the world, though she still hesitated to speak them out loud.

“Maybe Caldemount isn’t changing too quickly. Maybe I’m just changing too slowly.”

“I see.”

“Heh, yeah. It’s complicated.”

Peanut looked at the house and raised his brows. “Oh, I know this house.”

Dahlia turned to Peanut. “You do?”

“Yeah, I delivered a coffin here to an old woman. She told me she and her husband were bakers.” Peanut paused. “I heard she died a year later.”

Dahlia looked at the house’s entrance. Its white fence still stood tall in front of its ruins.

“Yeah, she did,” Dahlia replied. “Her husband died three months before her and she was just…” Dahlia caught herself, but spoke again. “…waiting for death after that, I guess.”

“What’s going to happen to their house?”

“They’ll build a new one over it, I suppose. I heard the couple that ordered it are going to open up a flower shop.”

“Well, hopefully it’s a good flower shop at the very least.”

“Yeah, hopefully. That old couple was some of the nicest people I’ve met.” Dahlia took one last look at the house as they passed it. “Hopefully they do their memory justice. Something like that.”

Peanut looked above as the sun fully set in the horizon. The sky slowly turned dark as it disappeared.

“Yeah, I suppose I see what you mean.”

Dahlia chuckled. “No, don’t listen to me too much. I told you, maybe it’s just me changing too slowly.”

“Or perhaps that’s just Caldemount speaking?”

Dahlia paused. She looked at the little cracks on the sidewalk.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I suppose no one can say for sure but yourself,” Peanut replied with a reassuring expression on his face as she looked at Dahlia.

“Well, anyway. You’re at a curious mood tonight,” she said, smirking at Peanut. “Why do you ask?”

“Mmm,” Peanut said. “I haven’t seen you guys in a while. I just wanted to catch up, I suppose.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry. All things considered, we’re all doing fine.”

Peanut let out a tired breath. “I’m glad to hear that. I wish I had more time for myself, but I’ve been so busy these days.”

“Is that something that’s changed for you?” Dahlia asked. “Having time for yourself.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Peanut scratched his head. “That’s changed for me for the worse. I have less and less time to just… relax nowadays.”

“You were already busy when you were still working here. You must be doing some really backbreaking work where you’re stationed at.”

“It has been quite rough, yes. Though I suppose you could say I had a relatively harder time in Kurestal.”

“Oh?” Dahlia said quizzically. “Why do you say that?”

“I was still quite inexperienced when I entered some areas. The Goldins gave me quite the beating all things considered. And I can never forget the creatures of the Fractured Forest.” Peanut shuddered at the thought of the purple forest. “Never again.”

“Oh man, I am never setting foot inside that place. How on earth did you even get through those niars?”

“Ah, they may be able to become invisible, but a well-timed charge reveals anyone,” Peanut said, holding his arm out as if he was charging. “They taught me my charge could still be further refined. It had to be if I were to survive them.”

“I’m guessing you’re still improving with that?”

Peanut lit up at Dahlia’s remark. “Yes, of course. And in all other things I can as well. It’s a hard job, but it’s also incredibly fun. I wouldn’t trade it for the world in the end. I’ve been to some amazing places.”

“I guess that’s one thing that won’t change with you,” Dahlia said, jabbing at Peanut with her elbow again.

“Yes. I’m glad for that. I think we all eventually have that unchanging passion. Me, with being a postknight, and you with Rosavern.”

“Yeah, I hope my love for Rosavern doesn’t change either,” Dahlia said, sighing. “It’s been hard lately, but I have this plan and working with Camellia thing now. Hopefully, it works out well.”

“What was that about you not being late for tomorrow earlier?”

“Ah, she’s going to help me find some workers I can hire. I don’t like it, but she says if I don’t hire at least three, she won’t give me the funds I need. So, you know,” Dahlia said, throwing her hands into the air in an exasperated manner, “Whatever.”

“I’m sure it’ll work. As much as you two go against each other, I do think you’d work well with Camellia.”

“Ugh,” Dahlia said. “Even Belladona said that. What are the both of us not seeing in each other? We can barely stand each other’s presence as it is.”

“Hm. I don’t know,” Peanut replied, choosing his words. “You two remind me of people like Elena, actually.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. You two became pretty damn close in just a few hours. What happened?”

Peanut smiled. “She was my polar opposite personality-wise, and it was quite hard dealing with her when we first met her.”

“Urgh.” Dahlia looked guilty as she remembered Elena’s bottomless energy and Peanut’s reluctance when she left him with her. “I’m so sorry.”

“But, somehow, in some way, we hit it off because of that.” Peanut shrugged. “She actually ended up being very easy to talk to. So, it’s fine.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’ve made a new friend.” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “For the umpteenth time.”

Peanut waved his hands in front of him abashedly. “Like I said, my reputation is certainly a big part of it.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Especially not with Elena. You have a certain charm to you people like.”

“I… don’t know how to respond to that, honestly,” Peanut replied, looking embarrassed.

“Like you always have. People like that. And you like that, as well.” Dahlia’s face became frustrated. “But see, that’s the thing I don’t get. You have a way with people, but I sure as hell don’t. Not with people like Camellia. Belladona did that whole talk of how we complement each other, but I just don’t buy it.”

“What did she say?”

“I get things done, but I don’t think them through enough, while Camellia thinks things through really well, but doesn’t get enough done.”

“Oh, I see,” Peanut said. He thought of Dahlia and Camellia in the scant moments he still gets to see them, and looked convinced. “Yeah, that’s quite accurate, actually.”

Dahlia narrowed her eyes at Peanut. “Hey, hey, hey, be honest. Do you really think I don’t think things through?”

“Well…” Peanut fumbled his words as he tried to put his thoughts into words in the nicest way he can. He tried to think of entendres and metaphors to help him, but came up short.

“Yes,” Peanut eventually said, hesitantly. “Yes, I do.”

Dahlia sighed. “Yeah, I figured you would say that.”

Peanut looked restive as he scrambled to say something. “Sorry,” he said.

“No, it’s fine. Really,” Dahlia said, shrugging his hands off. “I kind of agree in a way, too. Shello Bay, pirates, and all that. Among other things I’ve gotten myself into.”

“I see.” Peanut breathed out in relief. “That’s good.”

“I get it in principle. We’re polar opposites, so we match. But I don’t know, I think cases like you and Elena are an exception. If they weren’t, people would be getting along a lot more in general.”

“Well, it’s just a feeling, so I suppose you shouldn’t put too much stock in it,” Peanut said. “But then again, it’s a feeling Belladona trusted enough to hinge a plan on you two.”

Dahlia felt annoyed all over again at the thought of the plan. She felt like there was definitely a better way of going about their situation than this.

“Urgh, yeah,” she said. “I really hope this succeeds.”

“Give Camellia a chance,” Peanut said with the same reassuring expression from before. “Maybe you two will turn out to be one of the exceptions. You never know.”

The thought of giving Camellia a chance immediately made Dahlia recoil. She shuddered. “Well, it’s not like I have a choice either way. We’ll see, I guess.”

A blue metal bench covered by a metal roof came into view in the distance.

“Ah, I think this is our stop,” Dahlia said.

The two walked over to the bench and sat down. Dahlia melted into the seat in exhaustion, and rested her left hand on one of its arms, while Peanut took off his belt and set it down beside him.

The sky had already turned dark by the time they made it to their stop, adorning itself with tiny dots of lights that occasionally twinkled. A white, round light stood at the center of them all, shining the brightest, but also being secluded from the rest. Dahlia tapped Peanut’s side and pointed at the light. They looked above. As lonely as it looked, they thought it also seemed perfectly satisfied being alone. They looked at each other knowingly and sighed, conveying each other’s fatigue and thoughts without a word. They were alone, but they could finally rest. It had been a long day.

“How long do we have until a stagecoach arrives?” Peanut asked.

“At this hour? Ten more minutes at most,” Dahlia replied.

Peanut also melted into his seat. He let out a weary breath. “That’s good.”

They spent their time waiting in silence, simply reveling in the solitude of Caldemount. Only the warm light of the few lampposts in their vicinity allowed them to still view their surroundings in the darkness. After a while, Peanut fell asleep, resting his head on one end of the bench’s headboard. Dahlia chuckled. It had definitely been a long day, especially for him who had to guard someone’s stall from a bunch of puffbits.

She looked around. They were surrounded by houses with tiny gaps in between them. In this part of the city, they looked even more elegant and decorated, clearly the property of the nobles and others in the affluent class. In any other time, they would have felt suffocating, especially with other people and their vehicles passing through the road left and right. However, tonight, after an exhausting day, with no one else around, they provided Dahlia and Peanut with some much needed alone time.

Dahlia’s attention turned to the ground. She looked at the little cracks in the sidewalk again. In some of the gaps, tiny blades of grass and flowers were crumpled from people’s footsteps, while a few tiny insects jumped out from what little foliage there was under Dahlia’s gaze. She remembered the other cracks she also saw when she was walking with Peanut. It was strange. She could have sworn they were all smaller a week ago.

Eventually, a black stagecoach arrived and stopped near them. Nearly all of its parts were also black, except for the doors and the linings of its windows, which were white, as well as the brown horse that pulled it.

Its driver box opened, revealing a woman with long, green hair who tipped her bicorne at them. She also wore a black shirt and a uniform on top of it, which had four tie-shaped flaps at the bottom half. Her pants, shoes, and other accessories were of the same color.

Dahlia got off the bench and walked over to Peanut. She shook him lightly, and he awakened several seconds later.

“Hey, Peanut,” she said. “It’s here.”

Peanut opened his eyes and rubbed them groggily. He looked at his surroundings and stopped at the stagecoach, then shakily got off the bench as well. He walked into it, still half-asleep. Dahlia was about to go inside as well when she saw Peanut’s belt. She took it before following him inside.

Dahlia sat on one seat, while Peanut sat on another, resting his head beside a window and resuming his slumber. She smiled at him softly and yawned. It seemed like she wanted to get some sleep as well.

\-------------------------

“And we’re here!”

The stagecoach dropped them off at Rosavern. Dahlia gave the driver a few gold coins, then turned to Peanut. The driver gave a baffled look at the inn’s broken entrance, and the green transparent screen that covered its large hole, but soon turned away and went on her way.

“Oh dear, it really is quite bad,” Peanut said, scanning the wreckage.

“Yeah…” Dahlia scratched her head. “It’s seen better days.” She pointed at a door to the right illuminated by a wooden lamppost. “There’s a door here,” she said.

"I'm sorry I slept earlier..." Peanut said hesitantly. "I was just really tired."

"Huh? There's no need to apologize at all! You deserved that rest," Dahlia replied.

"Thanks, Dahlia."

Dahlia nodded. "Of course!"

They walked to the door as the lamppost flickered on and off. Peanut gave it a cursory look while Dahlia tried to find the right key for the door’s large, copper lock. After cycling through her key ring the second time, she eventually found it and opened the door.

She turned on the lights after the both of them stepped inside, revealing Rosavern’s homely interior. Peanut looked around, feeling nostalgic. Its wooden walls, tables, chairs, floor, along with everything else inside gave it a rich, vibrant, yet welcoming atmosphere. A colorful assortment of bottles was lined up behind the counter, showing off the various kinds of drinks Rosavern had to offer. True to Dahlia’s word, a few nails were sticking out of the right end of the counter.

“A lot has changed here, too,” Peanut remarked, admiring the wooden chandelier in the center of the ceiling above.

“Yeah, I’ve made some changes,” Dahlia said, locking the door. “It actually worked really well for the first several months, but then I started losing customers after that for some reason.”

“I see. That’s too bad.”

“Your room’s in the second floor,” Dahlia said, walking over to some stairs near the counter.

“Ah, right, there’s a second floor now.”

“Yep! It was a big help back then, though now I barely use it.”

They entered a hallway flanked by four doors at each side. Dahlia turned on the lights from a switch at the end of the stairs. Written in blank ink on each door were numbers that said 23, then 24 on the door opposite them, and so on. Dahlia walked to the door numbered 26 and opened it. Then, she removed a key from her key ring.

“Here’s the key to your room,” Dahlia said, walking to Peanut and handing it over to him.

“Thanks,” Peanut said. He took the key and put it inside his pocket.

“There’s also a change of clothes in the drawer inside. They’re my father’s old clothes.”

Peanut felt embarassed. “It would feel strange to wear those, though,” he said.

Dahlia patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it! He already said I’m free to let customers use them in case they needed an extra set of clothes.”

Peanut nodded. “Thanks, Dahlia.”

“My pleasure!”

Dahlia walked away downstairs while Peanut entered his room. She closed the lights.

After closing the lights downstairs as well, she went inside the counter and opened a door beside the shelf of bottles behind it. She went inside and closed it.

She immediately slumped on her bed. She didn’t bother to turn on the lights inside or change her clothes. A part of her wanted to do so lest she wake up feeling itchy and uncomfortable the next day. She could also take a bath. The bathroom was just several steps away and she would feel a lot more refreshed when she went to bed. But she did none of those. She was too tired to care.

“A lot has changed, huh?”

She thought of Rosavern, and all the years she spent with it, when she was still a little kid eyeing the alcoholic drinks her father mixed and served back then. She would always ask her father for a taste, but to no avail. He never allowed her to try even just a sip and always hid them inside the cupboards below the counter, which he locked. He didn’t lock anything else, and only used the space inside the cupboards for the drinks.

One day, however, he managed to miss one bottle. A large one, too. Dahlia, ever the opportunistic, reckless child, immediately took it with her in bed before he noticed, along with a shot glass she simply took from over the counter since they weren’t hidden.

That night, she had her first taste of wine, and, as much as it makes her laugh now, hated it. She put the bottle back in the shelf and vowed never to try another one of her father’s drinks ever again.

Times change, however, and she grew up slowly. As the years passed, she started spending more and more time helping his father managing Rosavern in her free time. She had no reason other than boredom, and wanting to try out something new. She became skilled enough to handle customers alone, and was quite popular around town, raising Rosavern’s popularity further. Her father was overjoyed, not only because his business was succeeding, but because he now had someone that was also really good at what he does, and shared something he loved doing, to help him. The young bartender, they called her. She was really proud of that.

One night, after the last customer had left, she was left alone. Her father went on a short trip yesterday, and entrusted the inn to her, saying he’d be back the very next day. She did a good job, of course, as she always did by that point, but after that, she was bored again. She couldn’t fall asleep either, as energetic teenagers were wont to be like at that age. Usually, her father would force her to go to bed at 10pm, but he wasn’t here right now. Seeing as she had nothing else to do, she looked around her, trying to find something to pass the time until she got sleepy.

Her eyes stopped at the shelf of bottles behind her. They weren’t hidden this time or locked behind some cupboards. Now, they were in full view of her. She hesitated for a mere one second, before taking the same bottle she took back then, and opening it. She poured its contents on a shot glass, and hesitated for one more second. Then, she drank it.

She remembered asking her friends and classmates the next day if they liked the taste of wine. Almost everyone said no, and the ones that said yes were obviously lying to look more “grown-up." She asked because that night, unlike the previous time, she absolutely _loved_ it. It was the most beautiful thing she’s ever tasted. She took another bottle that had ‘vodka’ written on a paper label around it, and tried that out too. Same thing. No, it tasted even better than wine.

She kept trying out different bottles, and she loved every single one of them. It was as if she had opened a door she knew she shouldn’t have opened, since she wouldn’t want to close it anymore after she did. After a while, she started getting dizzy, but not enough that she couldn’t stop. She kept taking bottles from the shelf, pouring them on small glasses, and downing them all in one shot. She didn’t have a single care in the world.

Hours later, she had drunk so much that she was finally starting to stumble and slur her words. Still, she kept drinking and drinking, taking stops lying her head on the counter when she got tired. Eventually, she was starting to get too dizzy to walk properly half the time, and considerably slowed down on her alcoholic binge. But still, she didn’t stop. It was only when the first rays of sunlight shone down on her giddy face and half-closed eyes that she finally ran out of energy, finally stopped drinking, and collapsed on the counter, a large bottle still in hand.

Looking back at it, Dahlia remembered that this was still a full six years before she was legally allowed to drink. She laughed. It wasn’t a pretty night. The next day, she was caught by her father sprawled out on the counter like a drunk mess, in the middle of a bunch of empty and half-empty bottles scattered on top. Two were broken after falling to the ground, and some had spilled. She eventually found out this was just an hour after she fell asleep, too. The hangover was terrible, but she recovered half an hour later after that anyway, so it all worked out, which baffled her father. She could still go to school, though not before being scolded like there was no tomorrow, and not without falling asleep in every class but one that day.

It wasn’t a pretty night, but it was one of her best memories.

She settled deeper into her bed. She wondered if she would keep having memories like those, or if she would need to give them up someday to keep up with everyone else for the sake of Rosavern. She was willing to, either way. She had resolved herself long ago to be willing to. She recalled her talk with Peanut, and all her complaints about how Caldemount was changing. For just a moment, she felt like she was doing the right thing.

She hated it. It was an irrational thought, and it wasn’t her. But it was a thought that was stuck inside her head until she fell asleep.


End file.
